Unaware
by peaches-503
Summary: Update Chapter 18 is now up! Please read my Sark story!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, thanks for reading! This is definitely not what it appears to be just from this chapter. Give me a chance to develop the story. This is a serious Sark story! I just have to do the set up and all that! ( Thanks and please review!  
  
"You didn't tell me."  
  
Sydney Bristow looked pained, her eyes full of unshed tears. "Anna, I wanted to tell you. But.", she paused, shaking her head, "You saw what they did to Danny. I couldn't let that happen again. Not to my best friend." Sydney sat up straight in her chair, searching the woman's shielded face infront of her.  
  
The woman across the plain, imposing table, brought her head up, her chocolate eyes focusing accusingly at Sydney, who gasped looking at the swelling, purple bruise on her friends cheek. "Friend? Friend? You let me believe I was working for the CIA, for my country. I thought I was a good guy. But you, you knew what SD-6 was! You knew they weren't the CIA! You knew that I was working for the very people I thought I was fighting! How is that excusable?! How is it justifiable? Tell me that!" She banged her fist angrily on the tabletop, gently running her hand over her face.  
  
"Listen, Anna, if SD-6 had found out what I was doing, let alone what we were doing, they'd have us killed!" Sydney shot back, heatedly. She breathed in deeply before continuing in a softer voice, "I couldn't.I couldn't lose someone again. You're my best friend! How could I set you up to die.like I did Danny. Not to mention, that if we had been found out, Francie, Will.they would be gone.like that! Like Danny! That was a risk I was not-"  
  
"You didn't give me any options, Syd! I could have helped. You seem to forget that I have been an agent just as long as you have! I know how to keep secrets, for Christ's sake; I've been doing it for more than 5 years. But that's just it, isn't it. You don't trust me." Anna paused and stood up, her hands shaking in anguish. "But I guess I should've known better. We've learned not to trust. Why trust a friend? That was a mistake that I made and one that I don't intend on making again!" Anna knocked on the thick door of the visitation room. "I'm finished here. For good."  
  
A tall guard stepped into the room, prepared to lead Anna back to her cell, as she trembled with the intensity of what she had just said.  
  
Sydney jumped from her chair, her smooth skin streaked with tears. "Anna, please. They're going to give you a job here, if you want it. We..we can start over! We have to get Sloane!"  
  
Anna spun around, meeting Sydney face to face and staring her straight in the eyes, brown on brown but one pair was full of coldness. With a steely expression and an even chillier voice, she replied, "I'm finished, Syd. Did you not hear what I said? For good. I'm through with you. We may work together and see each other, but we are no longer friends. We never were. Don't ever speak to me again."  
  
"Get me out of hear", Anna barked at the guard. Don't look back, she told herself, and don't cry. It didn't matter though as she felt a single tear cascade down her face. As she passed the crystalline glass, she saw Sydney's dejected body slumped in a chair and couldn't help but wonder if this was really the end of their friendship. Yes, it is. She lied to you! The one person who always told the truth to you and you to her. "Bye, Sydney", she said gently, more to herself than to anyone else.  
  
* * * Sydney rolled over onto her back, pulling the inviting sheets full over her body. She couldn't stop thinking about all of the things that had happened over the past two weeks. First, she had finally taken down SD-6 only to find out that it was all set-up; Sloane, the devil himself, had carefully orchestrated the takedown of the Alliance in order to pursue his own goals. Whatever those may be, she thought frustratingly.  
  
There was an upside, looking over at the man lying a next to her, a man who had been a part of her life for only a few years and yet it felt to her like he knew her every smile, her every look. Sydney quietly watched Vaughn for a second, letting her eyes scan his serene face and adorable forehead wrinkles and at the moment, she realized how much he meant to her. Vaughn had been her 'guardian angel', her safe place when everything else seemed chaotic and unhinged. And now they could be together. In the open. Out loud.  
  
Sydney smiled to herself. She was started a whole new chapter in life and she had a father to whom she was growing closer everyday, a chance at real love with Vaughn, and friends that she could be honest with. Her smile faded as she remembered her.she couldn't even describe exactly what it was.was it a discussion? Was it an interaction with her best friend? Sydney rolled over at the thought, thinking that it just seemed so unnatural to her-Anna had never been so frigid before. Ever.  
  
Sydney Bristow and Anna Parker had met in a counseling group through their elementary school for children who had lost parents. Sydney's mother had been 'killed' in a car crash when she was only six while Anna's mom had died a slow, painful death as a result of leukemia. Both had been rather shy, but their bond was instantaneous and they became fast friends, sharing an easy bake oven together and playing Barbies to no end. Luckily, their friendship superceded the turbulent time of adolescence and became stronger as Sydney drew away from her absentee father, relying more and more on Anna and their friendship. She could not even remember how many times she had spent the night at Anna's house and looking back, she fondly remember Steve Parker was always willing and caring enough to take her in.  
  
Sydney felt her eyes brim with tears as she thought about Anna's dad and his tragic death when Anna had been just seventeen. A car accident, Sydney thought bitterly, like my mother. Since her mother had returned, Sydney often wondered if there was not more to Steve Parker's death but both of her parents had assured her that Anna's father had no ties or links to the CIA or any other organization like that. His death really was a freak accident. In some ways, Sydney felt guilty that her mother, a master manipulator and murdered, had cheated death whereas a good man, a loving and honest father, had truly lost his life. Sydney tried to shake those thought from her head. More disturbing memories are the last thing I need, she thought, rubbing her temples.  
  
She and Anna had even ended up going to the same college, meeting Will and Francie and for a time, it seemed as though life was good. Happy. Then SD-6 had recruited Sydney, under the request of Arvin Sloane, and she became an agent of the CIA. Or so she thought. Shockingly, Anna had also been recruited by Sloane and Sydney still wondered why her, why her best friend? Sloane had always claimed innocently that Anna had fit the profile, just like Sydney, and therefore, she had just has much of an opportunity to be an officer of the 'CIA' as herself. The two of them had enjoyed their job, just the pure rush of it and the sense of danger. The lying to Will and Francie was, naturally, a sore spot for both of them but they reveled in the idea that they were serving their country and it was their duty to protect the people they loved.  
  
But Sydney couldn't protect Danny. She, with all her fighting skills and above-average intelligence, could not save him. That was when she had found out that SD-6 was not a branch of the CIA but a member of the Alliance, an organization that was the enemy of the CIA. Sydney had begged to be able to tell Anna and constantly reiterated that Anna would never knowingly betray the United States of America. But the CIA refused, unless Sydney wanted to risk exposing herself as a double agent and in effect, her life, and Anna's life, then she was not to tell anyone.  
  
And now she had lost one of her best friends. Just when things seemed to be improving, they became that much worse. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 A/N: I promise Sark is coming in the next chapter! I'm going to try and post a chapter a week! Please review!  
  
** 2 Months after Sydney and Anna's last conversation **  
  
"Marshall, a café latte. Dixon, black coffee. Vaughn, coffee, 2 creams," Anna said, carefully setting down a tray of morning boosters. "Honestly, why am I an agent? I could be, like, coffee-run girl!" She flipped her long, shining dark brown hair for extra measure and struck a pose.  
  
Dixon laughed loudly "Hey, hey now, Anna, it was my turn last week! And I remember waiting in line forever for a latte, skinny, no fat, no sugar, no nothing." Anna swapped him playfully on the shoulder, giving a bright smile to the group as she opened her 'nothing' latte.  
  
She inhaled the smell carefully, savouring that beautiful scent. "Coffee. Is. My. God. Enough said." Anna glanced down at the last cup on Vaughn's desk, looking lonely and desolate by itself. "I guess I better get this to Sydney before it gets cold."  
  
The three men looked up anxiously as Anna walked towards the debrief room, where Sydney was talking avidly with her father and Director Kendall.  
  
Marshall spoke first, breaking the silence thick with the three men's similar thoughts. "I don't think she's ever volunteered to take Syd's coffee to her.maybe the ice is breaking." He smiled slightly, a hopeful look on eyes, as he had always envied the relationship between the two girls. He'd like a friend a like that in his life.  
  
Vaughn shook his head, his forehead creased in thoughtful wrinkles. "You know, after all Sydney told me about Anna, I thought that they'd be friends again by now. I mean, Dixon, you and Marshall managed to forgive Sydney for not telling you the truth about SD-6. I just wish Anna would forget the past. It's really tearing Sydney up and we all know that she has a lot on her plate, what with trying to finally nab Sloane and all that." Vaughn took a deep breathe, feeling the sudden burst of energy that erupted whenever he thought about Sydney. He wanted nothing more than for Sloane to be lodged in a cell in the CIA because he knew that that would free Sydney from all the pain and suffering she had seen. And from Danny, he admitted inwardly.  
  
"I won't lie, Vaughn, it wasn't easy to think that Sydney had been lying to me for years. But I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing if our positions had been reversed," Dixon said quietly, knowing full well that he would do anything to keep those that he cared about from harm's grasp. "But you both are right. Anna needs to let go. They need their friendship. For them and for the CIA! Those two operate like no others, I can tell you that!"  
  
Vaughn grinned. "SD-6 sure had some quality training!"  
  
"Damn straight!" Marshall interjected gleefully, carefully wiping off his newly latte-stained tie with a napkin.  
  
Vaughn and Dixon glanced at eachother before staring with uprised eyebrows at Marshall. Damn straight?  
  
* * *  
  
"Sydney, you absolutely cannot do that!"  
  
All eyes in the debrief room whipped towards Anna, both interested and slightly worried about her outburst and how Sydney would respond to being told she could not do something. Yet Anna remained untouched by these stares and sat forward in her chair, prepared to explain herself.  
  
"Listen, Sark knows you. He'll be expecting someone to come after him, especially with your-" She paused, focusing at Sydney for emphasis, "obsession, and I admit, I share this, of getting Sloane. Of making him pay. So, you don't think he'll just be lying in wait for you, prepared to take you down. Syd, there are probably orders to have you killed. Think about it. Taking a risk for a stupid Rambaldi code!"  
  
Kendall jumped in, firmly ready to take authority. "Agent Parker, you know that we cannot, under any circumstances, allow Sark to get that code. Allowing him to get the location to.God know what is unacceptable. We have to be a step ahead of him and Sloane. Bristow and Vaughn are going in. Your plane leaves in 2 hours." He finished with a curt glance towards Sydney and Vaughn.  
  
Anna cut him off at the door, her expression firmly set with just a hint of worry. "I realize that I have only been here for a few months. However, I didn't realize that putting their agents lives in direct danger was on the agenda of the CIA!"  
  
"Anna-," Sydney tried to interject.  
  
"Let me go! Sark doesn't know me. When he was at SD-6 for that month or so, I was on assignment in Rome, so he won't recognize me. That way we have a better chance of getting the paper with the code and not putting an agent's like a risk, all the same!"  
  
Sydney stood up, eager to witness Kendall's reaction to Anna's strategy, while at the same time feeling a slight twinge of hope. Anna hadn't wanted her to go because she feared that her life would be endangered. Perhaps their friendship could be salvaged after all. Sydney also had to admit that Anna's plan was smart; Sark would be in for a surprise as Anna was one of the best agents she knew.  
  
Kendall placed his hands on the seat of his chair and looked questioningly at Jack. "What do you think?"  
  
"Well, given that Sark has had.extensive dealings with Sydney, perhaps it is better that we send someone else. Anna Parker has an excellent field-ops record," Jack stated factually, his hands together tightly on the table.  
  
Kendall looked Anna in the eyes. "Do it. Marshall, brief her on the tech." He let the heavy door slam behind him, leaving Anna with a somewhat triumphant look on her face.  
  
"I suppose we ought to be leaving too then. Good luck, Anna," Vaughn said, nodding confidently in her direction. He felt relieved that Sydney was not going on this mission. No one knew Sloane's reaction to the revelation of the Bristows' betrayal and double agent status. Plus, Sydney was always extolling Anna's qualities as an agent.  
  
Dixon patted her shoulder on his way out. "Anna, I know you won't let that cocky British jerk get that code." Her lips curled in a small smile and she was beginning to feel the pressure of how important this mission was. She could not afford to fail.  
  
Only Sydney, Marshall and Anna were left in the debriefing room. "Oh, ugh, if you girls-well I mean women, you know you've, uh, passed puberty, that little monthly-well you know-"  
  
"Marshall!" Anna and Sydney both exclaimed at the same time.  
  
He smiled nervously. "I'll just, um, read over the operation manual. Whenever you're ready, Anna."  
  
"I'll just be a minute."Anna turned towards Sydney, a nervous expression gracing her soft features. "I'm glad you're not going. We really don't know how Sark has been ordered to deal with you, should you try and stop him from getting that code." She trailed off, uncertain about what to say.  
  
"You'll be incredible. I know you want to get them at least as much as me. I trust you," Sydney replied encouragingly.  
  
Anna bit her lower lip uncertainly. "Even after the horrible way I've been treating you these past 2 months? I've been like a nightmare."  
  
Sydney's brown eyes enlarged, her mouth opened to protest but Anna cut her off. "No, Syd, me first. I just.I couldn't accept that you didn't let me in, that you didn't let me help. The thought that I was actually working for the 'evil' side.I couldn't fathom it and I blamed you. I'm so sorry for that! But you worked so hard and put your life in so much danger to bring it down. You brought down the Alliance!"  
  
"And we will take down Sark.and Sloane, together. This time, it's you and me. And I couldn't ask for a better agent than my very best friend!" Sydney hugged her friend, fighting back tears of happiness. "But you be safe. Sark is one hell of a son of a bitch. He will kill you if he discovers what you are trying to do, Anna," she said seriously.  
  
Anna nodded in agreement, "I know.or so I've heard." She held open the door for her friend, anxious to get started on the plan for the mission. "I'll be safe. Have faith!"  
  
Sydney grinned. "I always have."  
  
Anna smiled as she watched Sydney's retreating figure and then cleared her head, adamant to focus on the issue at hand. Sark. The code.  
  
"Marshall?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, right, Anna. So in order to break into the safe in the hotel in Marseilles, I have this nifty lipstick that when you take the lid off and turn it back-,"he demonstrated, "that will scramble the code-"  
  
"Marshall-I have something else in mind. I just need something to slice through shirt or jacket fabric. Something small that can go on my hand." Anna settled into a chair beside him, slightly smiling. "I think I have something perfect in mind. Sark will never know what hit him, literally. He'll be totally unaware!" 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you SO much wicked-sista, for reviewing! You are now my favorite person! Lol. I don't think that Anna is related to Anna Espinosa at this time, but you never know! OK, enough chat, time for Sarkness! I hope you (and hopefully others) like it!  
  
*** Aeroport Marseille Provence***  
  
Sark strode into the Marseille airport, careful not to draw attention to himself in any way. Though he was aware that public transport was extremely risky, it was also the best way to divert the CIA and other numerous factions that were after one piece of paper he carried in his breast pocket inside his coat. Casually brushing a hand over his shorn hair, he headed for the member's only lounge to await his flight. The point was to blend in and what better way to blend then to have a drink.  
  
He settled comfortably in a lush armchair, observing the other people in the lounge as he swirled his straight scotch around the ice. Observation was one of his specialities. It was how he learned, imitated and improved. Few people realized the ease with which one could garner new information just from watching others. Sark could tell that the young couple at the bar had just had an argument over another woman, as the lady was faced away from her man, cattily eyeing the other women in the lounge, while he remained oblivious, focused on the soccer game on the television screen above. He could see that the man in the dark coat huddled in the corner was desperately trying to look natural but was failing horribly and looked ill- suited to the posh environment of the lounge. Sark could see that a young woman sitting alone at a table was trying to read.he couldn't quite make out the title.but every so often would flit her eyes up and look around her. For some reason, she intrigued him; she had a sense of simplicity about her, a calm. He watched her for a few seconds longer, taking in her shiny long dark hair and dainty, fresh features. Sark noticed her insecurity as she would bit her bottom pink lip whenever she would glance about the room. He saw how she would fix her glasses and straighten her light green sweater even when they were both perfectly orderly. He watched as she sneakily read the last page of her book before she had finished it. Something drew him over there and he resisted, knowing full well that it was really nothing but an interest. But as he finished his drink, he thought, what the hell, I have a few hours to kill.might as well.  
  
"As far as I know, and I may be misinformed, one is supposed to read the whole book before the ending? Or is this a misapprehension?" He asked, casually leaning onto the woman's table.  
  
She looked up at him, deep brown eyes opening wide, and bit her lower lip. "Oh, well, I-sometimes, it's better to know the ending. Why suffer through the rest if you know how it's going to work out." Her accent had just the slightest touch of the French culture.  
  
He grinned, flashing a set of pearly white teeth. "Sometimes, the middle parts are greatly fulfilling and intriguing."  
  
She contemplated his reply for a moment. "Hmm, that could be true." Her lips turned up in a slight smile. "But in the same way, a tragic story is no less fulfilling at its end than at its middle!"  
  
"Ah, the wonders of literature.perhaps further to be discussed with a drink?" He offered, raising his hand to get the waiter's attention.  
  
The woman blushed avidly. "Oh, no thank you. I shouldn't.I'm on my way back home and then I have a meeting right away. But join me, please." She cleared her bag from the opposing chair, straightening her sweater as she did so.  
  
He had to admit that he loved playing this character; the suaveness and the easy-going nature. Sark glanced at the waiter, hovering expectedly by the table. "Right, I'll have another. Thanks, mate. Are you sure.?" He cocked his head to one side, a persuasive look in his startling blue eyes.  
  
Again, a sweet pink glow touched her cheeks and he couldn't help but realize that she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Ah, if only time permitted.  
  
"No, I really shouldn't but I will have an orange juice please," she replied shyly, rifling through her bag, small change falling out. Sark passed a few bills smoothly over to the waiter.  
  
"Oh no, that's fine. You really shouldn't-"  
  
He waved his hand dismissively and smiled at her, "I'm David Bennett, by the way. And you are?" Sark was impressed with his ability to lie with ease; it would almost be disheartening if it wasn't so useful.  
  
"Isabella Guigné," she answered, her French accent emerged strongly.  
  
"You're French, I presume?" He questioned, his eyes intently on her, as he leaned comfortably back in the chair.  
  
"From Montreal, actually. French-Canadian, I suppose you could say!" She laughed lightly, obviously still a little nervous, but she recovered. "But if you could say one thing about the Canadian winter and French-speaking 'spitters', I may have to hurt you. Don't be deceived by my calm demeanor, I'm a lion in.sheep's clothing!"  
  
He laughed out loud. "I don't think that's it! Kudos for trying, though!"  
  
"Hey, don't start."  
  
Sark held up his hands, mockingly. "Peace, I make peace!"  
  
Isabella tossed her gleaming locks. "Your turn. Where are you from? England, I presume?" she asked, mocking him.  
  
"Funny. But yes, you are right. Guilty! I was born and raised in Britain but I now.well I suppose you could say I have no country. I travel extensively."  
  
Isabella smiled, looking impressed. "Wow!" She sighed softly. "You must have an amazing job!"  
  
"At times, yes." He chose his words carefully, for fear of unwanted listeners; not to mention he had only known this woman for 10 minutes. Sark never trusted. On the other hand, it was getting a little tiring, trying to keep track of the lies. He decided to variate the truth and mix it with a little reality. "Actually, I work for the U.S. government." Ok, so a slight variation on the truth. For, against, what did it matter?  
  
She leaned forward conspiratorally and whispered. "The CIA? I suppose if you tell me, you'll have to kill me?" She threw her head back and laughed.  
  
Sark also moved in. "I would never kill you," he said seriously. "Others.ehhhh..there's a chance!" He grinned evilly, indicating he was kidding. "But seriously, I do international work, for the various embassies." Well, he did do international work, but definitely not for the any government!  
  
"Oh, that must be so incredible. It must.be amazing to travel. I mean, this is my first trip in years.I can't really afford to travel on the agency's salary!"  
  
His interest piqued. "Agency?" He put his guard back on, becoming Julian Sark once again.  
  
"Well, I work for an adoption agency in Montreal. Working with the children is.great but, ah, the work is so emotionally draining. I mean these kids have no parents, no family at all. Nothing. Do you have any idea what that is like? Horrible! I'm so thankful that I had people to fall back on during my life."  
  
Sark felt himself soften a little bit. "Now, that is something else. Isabella, what you do is important! And I, ugh-," he paused, realizing that he was actually about to be totally honest with Isabella, "do know what you mean. My father abandoned me when I was little and what I do remember of him was that he was physically abusive to my mother and myself."  
  
"Oh my God, David, that's so sad.but the important thing is that you made it through everything to become who you are today. Look on the bright side!" Isabella gave a small smile that didn't reach her eyes, the depths of which were still concernedly focused on Sark. "But I know from my work that sometimes the past just cannot be erased."  
  
Sark looked away from her worried stare, shocked at the intensity of the emotions that she had awoken in him. He hadn't thought about his father in years nor what he had done to him. As he thought about his painful childhood, he could actually feel his hands shaking and laid them on the table to calm them.  
  
Isabella reached over and covered his rough hands with her soft ones. Their eyes met and for a moment, he felt something deep within him that he hadn't felt since meeting Allison for the first time.  
  
She looked away first, her brown eyes almost fearful but her smile tried to cover this up. "So David, can I tell you something.it's kind of important," she said quietly, chewing on her lower lip.  
  
"Um, sure." He had to admit that this woman surprised him.and he was even more shocked to admit that he hadn't lost interest yet. "Try me."  
  
Isabella's expression turned very serious and she whispered, "Ok, this is absolutely critical.You have." Sark's eyebrows furrowed tensely.  
  
".a piece of olive in your teeth." Her facial expression cracked, as soft laughter filled the air and a smile showed sparkly white teeth.  
  
Damn martini, he thought. Well, he'd made quite the first impression. But watching her grin and laugh, he couldn't help but feel his worry and tension melt away. His lips broke out into a pleasant smirk. "Alright, alright, how long, if you can manage to spit it out. Wait, with that accent, you probably could!"  
  
She gave him a playful menacing look. "Oh, well, if you wanna start something."  
  
The two dissolved into more laughter, Sark's attention entirely focused on Isabella. So focused that he didn't even notice the woman watching the two of them intently from afar.  
  
***2 Hours later***  
  
Sark strode through the terminal quickly, afraid he was going to miss his plane. Automatically, he checked his pocket, making sure the code was still there. As he walked, he tried to focus on his surroundings, checking for possible threats but his mind kept drifting back to his time with Isabella. It wasn't the first time he had started a conversation with a woman.but it was the first time that he hadn't wanted it to end after 2 hours. But for him, it was business first and that was the way it had to be. There was no room for outsiders in his life.  
  
Still, as they had said goodbye, something in the pit of his stomach had told him not to leave her there. To stay. But he didn't, he couldn't. He had obligations to fulfill.and he had walked away from the lounge feeling strange and unguarded. During points of their long conversation, he had exposed himself and been completely truthful and now, reflecting on that, he felt unnatural. Life goes on, he thought. Isabella had been in and out of his life like lightning. Time to forget.  
  
"What-no, we've been through this! I've taken everything out!" a woman's voice cried as Sark neared the metal detectors.  
  
It was her. It was Isabella.  
  
His mind was just considering the odds of this chance meeting, as her upset voice reached his ears.  
  
"Please, I'm going to miss my flight!" she exclaimed exasperatedly.  
  
A man in a security uniform motioned to an office nearby. "Just come with us, miss, and we will sort this out," he said politely, his accent thick.  
  
Isabella looked around her, her expression upset and unbelieving. "How is going with you going to make this better? This ticket here.yeah, I don't get a refund for this so please let me go through! You've searched my bags, my jacket, and me! I just.I just don't understand." She looked about to cry.  
  
"Miss, step aside, you're holding up the line!  
  
Another officer kept the line moving through the detectors as the one argued with Isabella off to one side. Sark kept his eyes on her, watching her motion with her arms and her eyebrows furrow together  
  
"Fine! Fine!" Isabella exclaimed dejectedly.  
  
"Sir? Sir? Go through please," the officer said to him, with no trace of friendliness.  
  
Sark shook his head, ridding his mind of concern for her, and stepped forward. Just as he did so, Isabella went through the detectors at the same time, crashing into him. He caught her by the waste and inwardly chided himself for not letting go immediately. She steadied herself with his body, not realizing at first who she had run into. "Oh, excuse me.I'm so sorry, I'm in a huge hurry.oh, David? I'm sorry.I had no idea." She stepped away from him, running her hands through her hair distractedly. "I'm so late. I'm going to miss my plane!"  
  
Sark was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to.comfort someone.  
  
One of the guards stepped forwards, about to apprehend Isabella. Sark stepped in, laying a hand on his arm. "Excuse, but is this any way to treat a lady? Let her go one last time. Perhaps the machine is faulty."  
  
"Sir, I doubt that. It's highly unlikely." The guard looked angry that Sark had implied that something was wrong with the machine becoming defensive and distracted all at the same time.  
  
Isabella snuck through the detectors as Sark entrenched the one guard in conversation. They didn't go off.  
  
"Alright, miss, I suppose you can go now. You're clear," said the other guard. Isabella collected her bags quickly  
  
"Right then," Sark said to the guard he had been speaking to, "I guess I'll be off to then. Lovely chatting to you!"  
  
He caught Isabella's eye and she smiled, relieved. Thank you, she mouthed to him and they held each other's gaze for a moment. A huge truck of luggage rolled past and broke the look between them. When Sark looked back, Isabella was gone. For good, this time. Sark smiled slightly, shook his head, and headed for his plane. His future awaited him.  
  
But he was accosted by a woman, one he had never hoped to meet.  
  
"Stop right there, Sark!"  
  
***  
  
Anna grinned as she strode out of the terminal, putting the small envelope in one of her bags.  
  
She met up with Weiss, who looked a little nerve-wracked. "Did you get it? You missed the opportunity, right? Man, we are so dead. Kendall is gonna lynch us. Do they still lynch in the Unites States?" He opened the van door for her.  
  
"Weiss, darling, you need to calm down. I told you I would get the code. And voila, I did!" Anna answered, as she pulled off her green sweater and glasses. "A little sweet talk can take a girl a long way!" 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to my two reviewers. I love you guys! Hope you are liking the story! Thanks!  
  
"You and Will?! What? When did this happen?" Anna exclaimed, a big smile breaking over her face as she tossed a few kernels of popcorn at Francie.  
  
Sydney looked expectantly at Francie. "Oh, oh oh yes! Go on Fran, give her the excellent explanation you gave me!"  
  
Francie sighed, falling against the back of the comfortable sofa. "Honestly, it's not a big deal. It was a kiss, that's all!"  
  
"Pssh! That is such a liar. You told me that the two of you 'made out'!" Sydney jumped in, sitting up straight.  
  
"Since when is making out a kiss?! You're logic is warped, my friend!" Anna took another sip of her wine. "Hmm.so I guess this means that I'm the only one who hasn't kissed Will."  
  
"Yeah.well, don't!" Francie said, half-kidding.  
  
"Oooooh.so it is something serious!"  
  
Anna grabbed the popcorn bowl from the table, her forehead creasing in wrinkles. "You guys know what this means? I'm practically a spinster-"  
  
Sydney and Francie rolled their eyes. "Anna, come on-"  
  
"No, no no no." Anna interjected eagerly. "Think about it. Syd-you have Michael."  
  
She watched as Sydney smiled and brightened up just at hearing his name. "You make me sick, you know that!" Anna said jokingly, turning towards Francie. "And you! Tut tut tut.you have Will. God, I feel so alone. Pass the wine!"  
  
Francie filled up Anna's glass to the top. "Honey, I think you need this.you always were the overdramatic one!"  
  
Anna mocked anger. "I am not!" She glanced at Sydney questioningly.  
  
"Only sometimes," Sydney commented, grinning.  
  
"Ugh." Anna sank against the couch, sighing in defeat. "Obviously I'm not drunk enough."  
  
France rose up reluctantly, shaking her head. "Sadly I'm going to have to leave this drinking fest.I've got make sure that night manager actually locked up the restaurant tonight!"  
  
"What and leave all this?" Sydney questioned, motioning with her arms. "It's ok, I'll take care of our little spinster over here!"  
  
Anna lolled her head to face Sydney. "Funny, funny, funny.Only people with boyfriends can say crap like that.see ya Francie."  
  
Francie gave Anna an amused look and rolled her eyes for the second time that evening. "Bye!"  
  
Once Sydney heard the door shut behind her friend, she plopped down beside Anna, an expectant look on her face."Speaking of men.how was your first run with Sark? Cocky son of a bitch, huh?"  
  
Anna perked up, thinking of her successful mission. "For sure. I swear, he's that guy in high school, the one who knows how cute he is! I always hated that guy!" She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "You know I really.hmmm.I didn't know if I'd be able to pull it off. It was just so simple and it all depended on whether or not he responded to me. I took a chance."  
  
"Well, sometimes basic is good. I mean that was the easiest mission I've ever heard of. All you did was strike up a conversation, get him a little distracted, and run into him! To think, you probably ruined a perfectly good suit though!" Sydney responded, smirking slightly at the thought of having one over Sark.  
  
Anna laughed quietly, silently thanking Marshall for his genius. The ring she had worn that day could be reversed into a blade that could cut through anything. And anything included Sark's jacket! "Yeah.I guess I'd have to say it was overall a pretty easy mission. Nothing like those days back at SD-6! I just wish I could've seen Sark's expression when he realized he'd been had. After everything he's done, the crimes he's committed.well, it'll be a sweet day when we get him. And then Sloane!" Anna finished, feeling a sense of empowerment when she thought of getting the man who had tricked her into going against her country.  
  
"We will get Sloane. I know it. Well, I have to believe we will-" Sydney was broken off by the sound of the doorbell. She looked at Anna questioningly as she went to answer it. "Who would be coming here at this hour?"  
  
"God only knows," Anna replied, her mind still on Sloane. She became silent, waiting to learn who was at the door, only hearing muffled voices. "Syd?"  
  
"Anna-it's just Vaughn!" Sydney called out, her voice ringing with happiness.  
  
"Just Vaughn?...hey, Anna" said Vaughn, as he and Sydney strolled into the living room, Sydney carrying a small bouquet of fresh flowers.  
  
Anna watched the two of them, amused at their obvious focus on eachother. "Wow, flowers and everything.a surprise visit! So, right, I'm gonna.leave now!" She grabbed her popcorn and the wine bottle. "This comes with me."  
  
Sydney and Anna exchanged knowing grins as Anna headed out the backdoors and into what they had christened 'the garden'. She stopped for a moment and watched her friend. Sydney was obviously telling a story and making elaborate gestures. Vaughn was attending her so intensely, his eyes betraying his feeling for her, so full of love. Anna watched as he carefully touched her cheekbone, brushing hair from her face ever so softly. Anna couldn't help but feel envy. That was what she wanted. Not necessarily a serious boyfriend. Not even sex. She wanted that look; the look so full of tenderness.and need. She wanted that moment more than anything. That perfect time when you realize that you're in love with that person and when they realize that they need you. Not just a want. A need.  
  
Anna gave herself a little shake, trying to get rid of thoughts of things she couldn't have. She had other things to do first. Get Sark. And most of all, get Sloane. Her mind couldn't seem to forget about the mission. You know it's serious when wine doesn't help the situation, she thought as she settled comfortably into a chaise-lounge.  
  
She hadn't told Sydney that she had not been totally professional in her interaction with Sark. For some inexplicable reason, Anna had let part of herself shine through her character, Isabella. Her mother had worked for an adoption agency and Anna had truly felt sympathy for Sark when he told her about his own experience with physical abuse. He had actually touched her, whatever that meant, and that not only scared her but made her angry. She was supposed to be this professional CIA agent who had an outstanding ability to decompartmentalize. And Anna wasn't able to keep herself separate from her character; from Sark.  
  
From Sark, what am I thinking? David. He was playing a role too. But in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he had done the same thing. Did Sark let part of himself shine through too?  
  
*****  
  
Sark carefully extricated himself from her soft, dark skin, pulling a pair of sweatpants. He looked down at Allison's sleeping face and felt slightly guilty for what had happened between them as of late.  
  
She had accosted him at the airport in Marseilles much to his surprise. They had ended things recently and messily and he hadn't expected to see Allison so soon. But when she had all but attacked him in the terminal, he had felt that attraction come screaming back to him.  
  
Allison had been sent by Sloane to make sure that Sark had attained the code for the critical location of.something. No one had any idea what was at or in this place but Sloane was adamant about finding out. Needless to say, Sloane was furious when Allison reported Sark had not come through.  
  
Sark left the bed, quietly as to not wake Allison's sleeping figure, and walked through the adjacent doors out onto the deck, watching the waves hit the shore. He shook his head, still feeling slight disbelief that he had not had a successful mission. Rarely did he miss. He knew why he hadn't got the code Sloane too and the thought made him a bit queasy. Because he had been distracted. Isabella. If that was even her name, he thought angrily, stretching his arms against the balcony. When he had run into her in the metal detectors she had managed to cut through his jacket and snagged the paper without him even noticing until Allison had demanded if he had it.  
  
He had been so stupid and felt frustrated at the thought that someone had disarmed him. Especially her. The whole time.she was lying to him! He was supposed to be the one playing a role and instead someone had played him. Sark descended the stairs and let the silky sand touch his feet. He had to admit that he was still intrigued by this mystery woman. Sark wanted to know her identity; her real one. More than that, he wanted to test her. Anyone who could get by him must be something. He had an inkling that she might be CIA and he was certain that Sloane knew but for some reason refused to tell him her identity.  
  
As he walked he couldn't help but let his guilt engulf him. He shouldn't have ever stopped to talk to her. That was a mistake. Sark should've just let things be but for some reason she had called to him; there was something about her. Now he had the advantage of hindsight and knew that she had studied him, knowing that he would come to her; be attracted to her.  
  
She had truly done a superb job. He had spoken truths to her for some reason, something he never really did with anyone, even Allison.  
  
"Allison," he sighed, drawing out her name. She had been privy to the whole incident. She'd watched as he'd been seduced by the power of this mystery woman but luckily, Sark had used his old-standby to get her to forgive him; his charm. Ironically, that was what he had tried to used with 'Isabella'.and look what happened with that, he thought half-heartedly, tossing a few stones into the waves. Rather, it seemed that that she had charmed him.  
  
Sark was unsure what has happening with Allison. They had been together for so long he didn't really know life without her. And he felt confident that she felt the same way. Still, he had lost that feeling for her somewhere along the way. It was true that there was still a sexual attraction between them. He grinned as he thought of the night's events. But something was missing. He didn't need her. Allison didn't make him feel any different. She didn't make him angry or happy, she didn't bore him and she didn't drive him crazy.she just was. And he wasn't really sure if that was enough for him anymore.  
  
"Why am I thinking about this now?" Sark wondered aloud as he headed back to the house. He had more important things to think about. He had a meeting in a week with a member of the Covenant, the new organization on the anti- CIA block, and he had every intention of doing his job this time. He had to be focused and forget about everything else. Nothing else mattered.  
  
As he shut the door behind him and climbed back into bed with Allison, the mystery woman of the airport nagged at him. Her sympathetic face flashed in his mind as he kissed Allison's forehead. He wanted to know her identity. More than that, he wanted to get her back.  
  
And I will, he thought, settling back into the sheets. I always do. 


	5. Chapter 5

"Alright, alright, let's nail this out," Kendall said firmly, moving to the head of the conference room. "Ok, Parker, Weiss, Bristow, and Vaughn- you're all on this one. Sark has a meeting George Mandell, who we think has ties to the Covenant. As you already know, the Covenant is not a group friendly to the U.S. government. Naturally, everything they know, everything they do, everything they have.we want to know about it. Weiss and Vaughn, you'll be on communications but Vaughn-be prepared to assist the other agents if need be. We are not losing out on this one!  
  
"So are we just observing or are we going to take any.things, artifact, whatever, that are a part of this meeting?" Sydney asked, folding her hands on the smooth table.  
  
Kendall looked uncertain for a second. "Personally, I'd like to see us take in Sark but he always seems to escape our clutches. So, unless by some miracle you are able to do it, that's not the goal of this mission. What I want...what the CIA wants, is to know what this deal is about-this is critical-legally we can't do anything yet but if we find out they're dealing arms, they're ours. Under no circumstances can we let Sark or Mandell come into possession of an unknown object..thus, don't make your presence known until we know the contents of their meeting.you're there for observation basically," He finished, taking a deep breath. "Your plane leaves in 2 hours."  
  
Jack stood up, bending over his daughter. "Sydney-be careful. Sark won't be so easy to trick after the last mission. Good luck. That goes for you too Anna-watch out." And with that, Jack strode briskly from the room, following Kendall.  
  
Sydney and Anna looked at each other, slight smiles on their faces. This would be their first mission since SD-6. Weiss and Vaughn also glanced at each other blankly..they weren't even getting in on the action...if there was any!  
  
"Let's do this," exclaimed Anna.  
  
**************  
  
As Sydney tied back her long, brown hair, she glanced cautiously at her friend. "Anna?"  
  
Anna lifted her dark eyes distractedly for a moment, pulling on a pair of black pants. "Uh huh."  
  
"Anna.when we do this.don't try to..don't do anything rash. Don't go too far. Sometimes you just get this disregard..for your own life. Not this time. Sark will kill you if he sees you."  
  
Anna dropped the gun she holding; it hit the ground with a tense and loud bang.  
  
Vaughn and Weiss' heads whirled around from the front of the van, their eyes flashing with concern and fear at the same time. "Christ, Anna, way to start off the mission," Weiss said incredulously, thankful the small gun had not gone off.  
  
She bent down, carefully picking up, and made sure it was disengaged. "Sorry, sorry. Are we going or what?"  
  
Sydney leaned towards Vaughn, sweetly pressing her forehead to his. He kissed her twice gently, mouthing 'I love you' as he pulled away. Anna watched his forehead crease into about a thousand worry wrinkles.  
  
She rolled her eyes, feeling a wave of jealousy wash over her ever so briefly as she jumped from the van. "See you soon," Anna called out to Weiss, winking with a big smile gracing her lips.  
  
Weiss broke up Sydney and Vaughn's lovefest. "Get a room, you guys-after the mission," he broke in, jokingly. His expression turned tense and serious as he looked back at Anna. "Sark's dangerous. He'll be on the watch for the person in Marseilles-"  
  
"Agh! I know! Seriously, I know!" she replied shrilly.  
  
"Anna-just...just be good."  
  
Her lips turned up. "Aren't I always?" she retorted, slamming the door shut. "Ok, Syd, we should be early enough that Sark and Mandell aren't here yet. I'll be on the roof. You know how it goes but let's recap: Get in the club, top floor, turn on the transmitter. Get just close enough to her. Let me worry about the visuals. I'm gonna get in through the vents.Weiss has the floor plans. Ok? We good?  
  
"Yeah.," Sydney looked around her surroundings, a look of disbelief adorning her features. "Maybe he's here because the past few times, the location has been at really posh clubs.maybe he thought we wouldn't trace him..I'm not sure."  
  
Anna nodded in agreement. "Yeah.something about this whole meeting seems...odd.the info., the details; they were so available to us, barely hidden at all. I just wonder what and Sark...and Sloane are doing. What the hell is their endgame?"  
  
Sydney gave her concerned friend a brief hug. "One step at a time, Anna. Then, Sloane," she finished, her soft expression turned steely.  
  
"You're right. See you soon," Anna responded, her mind once again focused on their assignment.  
  
Sydney waved goodbye, walking around to the front of this dive and pulling off her long coat, revealing a short, electric blue dress.  
  
Anna breathed in deeply and started up the rickety, metal stairs to the roof. She could totally do this.well, she hoped she could.  
  
*********  
  
Anna coughed, trying to be as quiet as possible, but the air in the vents was dusty and dry. The last thing she needed though was Sark or Mandell shooting up the aluminum hovels she was inside of. Having memorized the ventilation system, she had a general idea of where Sark and Mandell's meeting would be, but she was still listening carefully for sounds of music, or voices.  
  
"Mr. Sark.a while..well, I see?" Anna could faintly hear words and fragments and she knew she only had a bit further to crawl. She pulled a mini-mic out of her pocket, carefully placing it on top of the metal rows of the vent, hoping the sound of their conversation would transmit well. Anna silently thanked Marshall for making a device that worked in areas that had anti-microphone and sound recording devices. She laid down flat, listening to and trying to watch the conversation.  
  
"Ahh, Mr. Sark, Sloane has informed me of your..new direction." Anna recognized Mandell's voice from previous recordings when he had been in custody of Sd-6.  
  
Sark looked around his surroundings cautiously. "Excuse me for saying, sir, but I don't think this is the time or place to be discussing my.dealings.out forthright." He sat down in front of a small glass table, the music causing the table to pulsate slightly.  
  
Mandell laughed quietly, also settling into a black leather cushion. "Right, I understand. Shall we move on to more.pressing business?"  
  
Sark leaned forwards, his elbows resting on his knees as he places his hands together. "Sloane wants to collaborate. He's looking for another partner, someone with.similar interests."  
  
"Ha. And what would Mr. Sloane have to offer me?" Mandell retorted haughtily.  
  
"7-5-H-I-8," Sark said simply.  
  
Anna covered her mouth in shock, trying not to make a sound.  
  
Mandell balked and stood up, shaking his head. "Mr. Sark, I think you are wasting my time."  
  
"Sir, I assure you, I am not. The combination of numbers and letters that I have just read to you is a code. A code to the location of 4 nuclear weapons. I know this location. I know you're organization is currently shopping for marketers. I am here to offer you that location."  
  
Mandell sank back into the seat, his eyes entirely focused on Sark. "I heard that code was lost to the God damn CIA!"  
  
"No.the one they possess is a fake. I have the real one. Even if the CIA discovers this code, they will be unable to crack it. It is entirely random. The code was a pretense. It is the location that matters, which was bestowed upon me as a gift. I'm here to offer it to you-"  
  
Sydney's voice broke on through the Comm. "We are not letting them walk out of here, Anna. I don't care what Kendall said. We can't. Letting them get nukes? Not an option. The second they walk out of there, you get Sark, I'll get Mandell."  
  
Anna tensed up, waiting for the meeting to end. As soon as she heard Sark say "I'll get in touch when it's necessary.", she jumped slightly, hitting the top of the shaft loudly. Shit, she closed her eyes, attentive to any sounds of movement in the room.  
  
"There's someone in there!" Mandell exclaimed, drawing his gun. "Allow me." He shot three rounds into the vents and Anna scurried quickly through the shaft. Anna heard Sydney's voice enter the meeting room and detain Mandell. "Anna, Sark's escaped.out the back!" Sydney called out.  
  
Anna flipped out of the vent shaft, running down the dark hallway, trying to recall which exit was the nearest and most likely for Sark to take.  
  
"Stop! Stop!" Two security guards yelled out, whipping out their weapons. She stopped, raising her hands in surrender. As the guards came closer to her, she grabbed a piece of pipe lying to the side of the hall and swung at the first guard. She knocked him into his partner and brought her leg across both there mid-sections, both going down writhing in pain.  
  
Anna breathed deeply, her attentions alert for any sounds. She spun around hearing rustling from the other end of the hall. She crept slowly towards that end, preparing to draw her gun from her ankle. But it wasn't there. It must have fallen out when she'd kicked the guards. Well, looks like I'm doing this alone, she thought, feeling herself harden mentally and physically.  
  
Anna felt a hand grip her waist tightly from behind, another hand pushing the barrel of a gun into her hip. She gasped in surprise, as the figure pressed against her body and she could feel warm breath by her neck. "I didn't think we'd ever meet again...Isabella," an accented male voice said smugly.  
  
He spun her around harshly, her back pushing against the wall and a gun still forcing itself on a smooth band of tanned skin. Anna stayed silent, her breathing deep and slightly wincing in pain. Sark leaned one arm against the wall, above Anna's blank face. "Nothing to say? I don't remember this silence." He ran his fingers along the curve of her cheekbone, watching her tremble with disgust.  
  
Anna jerked her face from his touch. "Don't touch me. You make me sick, you son of a bitch!" she spat out.  
  
"This hostility hurts me. But one thing, you do know that what you stole from me WAS A fake. In fact, the CIA has nothing."  
  
"We will when I take you into custody," she replied coolly, her eyes finally meeting his.  
  
His free hand touched the bare expanse of skin between her shirt and belt, roaming softly. "I think I'm the one with the collateral here."  
  
She tried to wriggle free but Sark's grip hardened. "I want you to know that this isn't just a physical thing," he continued easily, as he got closer to her, blue eyes staring into brown. "You know, you had me interested. And that doesn't often happen. For that, you have my respect and admiration."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You were an easy target."  
  
"I won't disagree with you. But now I feel like everything we had was a lie," he paused, chuckling, the sounds reverberating down the empty hall. "And Anna-what a beautiful name, you know-I really dislike when people are dishonest with me." Sark put a finger to her chin, turning her head to face him. "I won't stand for it."  
  
"And what are you going to do? Huh? Kill me! Could you?" she stared at him defiantly. "Could you kill Isabella, that sweet girl who you just couldn't help but be attracted to? Could you forget her so easily?"  
  
His eyes widened, becoming steely. "That's just it.you're not Isabella. You're Agent Parker of the CIA and the CIA.well we're on less than fabulous terms..and when someone gets in my way, they have to be eliminated." Sark pulled away from her, leveling the gun squarely at her. "Forget Paris." His finger pressed firmly on the trigger.  
  
Anna went down with one shot.  
  
********  
  
Sark moved to roll her over, wondering if he had really killed her with only one bullet as he glanced at the small but expanding pool of blood. His expression was straight, knowing that he had done what was necessary.  
  
Anna's eyes popped open and taking advantage of Sark's distraction, she swung her leg violently, knocking him squarely in the jaw. She stood up somewhat shakily as Sark huddled to the ground, blood running from his mouth.  
  
"It was Marseilles, jackass!" she uttered, before kicking him swiftly in the head, rendering him unconscious. 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks so much to the two of you who have been reviewing my story. Seriously, I love you guys!!! And thanks for sticking with it (....now to get started....please review (  
  
"Well, anything?"  
  
Sydney looked pointedly at Kendall as she approached the small group in the center of the office. "Nothing. He won't say a thing."  
  
Anna stomped her foot on the ground lightly, her hand automatically reaching to her opposite shoulder. The wound still hurt.  
  
Jack shook his head in agreement. "Same with me."  
  
Kendall rubbed his face anxiously, looking exasperated. "Damnit....it's been two weeks and Sark's said nothing. Did you both inform him that this deal....that it's conditional based on his cooperation?"  
  
"I did...no response!" Sydney replied.  
  
Kendall began to walk away but spun around quickly. "We need that information. Someone better get in there and damn well make him talk." He strode off angrily with Jack following.  
  
Weiss attempted to lighten the mood. "So who's turn is it now? Vaughn's dog?" No one laughed, everyone tense and immovable. "Ok...tough crowd."  
  
Vaughn clapped Weiss on the shoulder and the two went back to their desks, their shoulders slightly hunched. Anna turned towards Sydney, trying to brighten up. "He'll have to talk at some point. It's just a matter of when. Don't worry, ok?" She hugged her friend and pulled away, but as she did, Sydney pulled on her arm.  
  
Sydney's brown eyes met Anna's surprised ones. "Anna—there's something you should know; something I didn't tell Kendall. I wanted you to know first."  
  
"What?"  
  
Sydney looked around concernedly, nodding over to a secluded corner of the office. "Sark did speak to me," she stated simply.  
  
"He did? Syd—that's great!" Anna replied excitedly. Her expression suddenly turned confused. "Wait, but why not tell Kendall......we've been waiting for weeks?"  
  
Sydney ran her hands distractedly threw her dark brown mane and tried to explain herself. "He said.......listen, Anna, Sark said he'll talk." She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, holding up her hand to stop Anna. "But wait....he'll talk.....but only to you. Anna, he'll only deal with you. It's you or no one."  
  
********  
  
Anna walked through the dark hallways, taking her time and wondering for the fifty-seventh time why she was actually going through with this. When Kendall had given her this special assignment, she'd almost refused. But though there were so many reasons not to, there were just as many for it. Oh that's right, it's what I do..... save the world, she thought bitterly. And this meant giving up her time to spend with this jerky British bastard.  
  
She was hoping to get information on Sloane. That was her goal. But Anna highly doubted that Sark would be so easily forthcoming. Most of all, she wondered what his endgame was. And why had he asked for her?  
  
Anna stood outside the glass window of Sark's cell, her fingers grazing the bandage just beneath her collar bone. Before she had a chance to readjust her features into a hardened expression, Sark stood before, casually and cockily all in one. "Well, well, well...it seems anytime I want you, you're there."  
  
She pursed her lips into an emotionless expression. "Listen, I don't deal with criminals that shot me. I won't be your liason into the CIA. Get someone else."  
  
He tilted his head, his blue eyes piercing through the glass and through her. "You're not still upset about that incident, are you?" he questioned, motioning to her injury.  
  
"And your concern is overwhelming," Anna deadpanned.  
  
Sark's laugh rang off the walls loudly. "I had to do it....but to think....you got me with one blow. I knew you'd be good."  
  
She leaned her arm against the glass. "I'm good at a lot of things, but negotiating with sons of bitches like you is something I prefer not to do."  
  
"Well, darling, I'm afraid you might have to make a little adjustment," he said, raising his eyebrows and smirking. "Because either I talk to you or I talk to no one. Now if you think you can resist the attraction, perhaps we could get down to business, Anna?"  
  
Anna's mouth opened and she felt ready to explode. "Are you---can you possibly be serious?" Breathe, just breathe. Don't let him get to you. "Fine. It's Agent Parker by the way, Mr. Sark! And I don't want to hear anything but information come out of that chatty, jerk mouth of yours."  
  
"Your people skills are above average. The men around her must be falling like flies, Agent Parker," Sark commented snidely.  
  
She smiled grimly, flipping through her notepad absently. "Well, I can see your track record is excellent too. Do you always shoot your date the first time, or is it more of a second-date type of thing?" she asked innocently.  
  
"Whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Attraction, dating....soon you'll have us married and living the American dream."  
  
She stared him down, her lips upturned in a fake pleasant smile. "Oh, into necrophilia are we? Because that's the only type of woman that would have an interest in you. A dead one.  
  
"And on that subject," she continued, "is there anyone that the CIA should notify—that you're in custody—I don't know....girlfriends...or shall I prostitutes?"  
  
"Ha. Ha. Ha. It's hard to see why you're alone," he replied, his expression betraying his words.  
  
"Shut up." She read over the questions she was supposed to get answers for. "Let's make this quick—and don't even," she said, stopping Sark before he could make a comment. "Give me the information."  
  
********************  
  
Anna closed her notebook shut, mentally remembering some of the details of the information Sark has provided. "So...you know where this place is, then?"  
  
"Anna—I told you—"  
  
"Agent Parker," she interrupted him.  
  
He grinned toothily at her, his blue eyes flashing. "Right, right. But like I said.....I'm the only one who can get in there. I could tell you everything you'd need to know but I don't think you'd make in there, regardless," he answered her question directly.  
  
"I'm pretty capable. Tell me what I need to know."  
  
Sark moved closer to the glass; closer to her. "I don't doubt....your capabilities. You know I admire you as a agent—"  
  
Anna sighed, rolling her eyes. "Cut the crap."  
  
"You need me for this mission. Otherwise you won't make it. Take it or leave it," he stated simply, turning his back from her and pacing across his cell.  
  
Anna was conflicted. She definitely did not want to go on a mission with him, as he could not be trusted. On the other hand, would she be risking her life if she went alone? "I have to report this to Kendall—he'll make the final decision." She turned to leave.  
  
"What no thank you?" Sark asked, his eyes gleaming.  
  
"Thanks are given those that deserve it. Nasty bastards like yourself do not."  
  
Sark laughed out loud, shaking his head. "Lovely interacting with you as always. Can't wait 'til our next meeting."  
  
"Don't hold your breath. Actually on second thought, go right ahead." She went to leave again but paused. Don't turn back, don't turn back. She spun around, her deep brown eyes searching his face, interestedly and questioningly at the same moment. "I never told you that I was alone. I mean before, when you said I was alone.....I never mentioned that."  
  
Sark met her stare, not joking this time. "You didn't have to. It's obvious to anyone that watches you for just a minute and sees through the superficial stuff."  
  
"That was an act," she said a little defensively, referring to their first meeting when she had pretended to be Isabella.  
  
His expression still serious, he bluntly answered her, "Was it?"  
  
Anna looked at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze as she walked away; Sark watched her retreating figure long after she had gone.  
  
*************  
  
"Hey, Weiss?" Anna called out as she chopped onions hurriedly. Everyone was having supper at their house tonight and Weiss and Anna were in charge of vegetables.  
  
"I have no idea what the hell that even means—" he muttered, looking up from the recipe, his eyes looking slightly confused. "Yeah?"  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
"If you can decipher this damn recipe for me, you can ask me just about anything!" He handed her the recipe card, its sharp edges nearly cutting her with the strength at which he practically threw it at her. Anna started to giggle, her eyes sparkling.  
  
Weiss looked at her, his eyebrows lifted. "What? What? Do I have spinach in my teeth?" He covered his mouth self-consciously.  
  
She handed the recipe back to him, her eyes bright with tears of laughter. "Dude.....try and read the English side, not the Hungarian side."  
  
Weiss grabbed it, not believing her. "Huh. You're right....seriously, isn't it a wonder that I'm so friggin' smart? So what was it you wanted to ask me?"  
  
Anna blushed a little and jumped up to sit on the counter. "Ok, this is kind of a stupid question but.....Do you think.....well—If you had to describe me in one word, what would you say?"  
  
Weiss stared thoughtfully off into space, rubbing his hands together. "Other than beautiful, or amazing or brilliant?"  
  
Anan smiled slightly, nudging his side with her elbow, and looked more closely at him. "No....seriously....when you first saw me what did you think or when you see me now, what word would describe me best?"  
  
Weiss threw his hands in the hair. "Anna—I don't know what this is all about—"  
  
"Come on, just answer it, it's not hard!"  
  
"Ok, ok....umm, I guess probably 'happy' would be the word, or 'extroverted' if we're gonna go all psychological and professional sounding.....you're outgoing....content.....there are a million words to describe you!"  
  
Anna tried to smile again but instead felt deflated and lost. Fake, even. "Oh yeah....uh, thanks! Right. Listen, I'll be right back." She tore from the kitchen, running into the bathroom and stared at her reflection critically in the mirror.  
  
He was right. Sark was right. Anna was alone; alone in every sense of the word. And the only person who had noticed, who had seen her true self beneath the act she put on, was the last person she ever wanted to know. The man who had shot her. Her enemy.  
  
******  
  
"No way. No way" Anna repeated, anger entering her voice. "There is no way in hell that I'm working with him."  
  
"Parker, do I need to remind you that this is not a choice. You're doing this." Kendall asserted, looking at her knowingly.  
  
Anna glared at him, her mouth set in a rigid line. "No. I never agreed to this. I said I'd talk to him—get the information. But there is no way in hell that I'm working with him."  
  
"Parker, you agreed to this before and if you don't do this, I swear to you that I'll—"  
  
Sydney's voice interrupted. "Hey! Hey! Need I remind everyone why we're doing this? To take down the enemy. To take down Sloane."  
  
Anna shook her head, exasperated. "I just don't need to trust Sark to do it!"  
  
Sydney's expression softened, understanding her friend's concerns. "Anna—we have to be willing to go to extremes to beat Sloane. And no one said anything about trusting Sark. Don't trust him, just use him for everything he has."  
  
"Sark is a necessary evil," Jack added.  
  
With Sydney, Jack and Kendall looking expectantly at her, Anna rubbed her exhausted face. "If I do this, I want control to make the calls."  
  
Kendall's eyes widened, his mouth practically foaming. "Absolutely not."  
  
"Listen, Sark will only deal with Anna. Anyone else, he won't help us and we'll be losing an asset, here. And if you lose this...it's going to be on your head," Sydney said quietly, glancing at Kendall as she spoke.  
  
"Fine, do it. You're in control. Don't screw this up, Parker." Kendall walked from the debrief room, throwing his folder into the garbage furiously.  
  
Anna stretched out in her chair, her face looking satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time. "Great, I get operational control. But I have to work with that bastard Sark.........damnit."  
  
************  
  
"I hope that hurt."  
  
Sark smirked, rubbing his right shoulder where Marshall had inserted a tracker. "It's nothing."  
  
"Don't get the wrong idea. I really could care less about you," Anna commented, tossing him some gear to change into as she turned around to let him change.  
  
"You know you may have to start trusting me if this is going to work out!"  
  
Anna revolved around, her eyes widening as she saw Sark's bare, toned chest. He pulled on his shirt as she self-consciously averted her eyes. "Trusting you is not an option."  
  
Sark cocked his head, looking down at "So there is absolutely no way that you could trust me?"  
  
"Not a chance."  
  
"This is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship," he added, doing up the buttons to his light blue shirt.  
  
Anna looked directly into his eyes. "Bite me."  
  
"Maybe we could save that for after the mission?" said Sark. He put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it softly.  
  
She shrugged off his arm. "Seriously, don't touch me."  
  
"On, off, on, off...."  
  
Sark and Anna left his cell, still bickering back and forth. Both had no idea what to expect from this mission but they each hide small smiles as they walked out of the CIA and into the warm sunlight. 


	7. Chapter 7

"Ok, I'm good, let's do this. And remember the rules!" Anna said, stepping out into the light of the room.  
  
Sark adjusted his black suit as he turned to face her, his expression blanked when he saw her. Anna had on an intense red dress, with a low neck exposing creamy skin and a deep 'v' in the back. Her hair was coiled up, a few stray strands framed her beautiful face. Sark took a breath as he looked at her, feeling that thing he'd felt when he'd seen her for the first time in the airport lounge. He still hadn't found the words to describe it, and wasn't even sure if he wanted to. He opened his mouth to say something, his bright blue eyes softened. "You look...--"  
  
Her dark brown eyes made a circle. "Save it for someone who cares." She couldn't help but notice that he was a good-looking man and could definitely pull off a suit quite nicely. She sighed on the inside as she thought, too bad all the hot ones are lacking personality, well that and are enemies of the US.  
  
Sark tried to avert his eyes; he knew he was staring intently at her. "Well, you really know how to take a compliment."  
  
She grabbed her purse and checked her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. "Because what woman doesn't love compliments from a criminal? They're always the most special. Can we just do this, if you could stop staring at me for one second!"  
  
Sark sat on the bed, putting on his shoes. "I wasn't staring. You're not really my type!"  
  
"Oh right....not inflatable, gotcha!" Anna laughed at her comment before her face turned threatening and serious. She pushed his back against the wall.  
  
Sark smirked, "Rough and tough usually isn't my style. But I'd try it just for you."  
  
"The only rough play we'll be having is when I kick your ass," She stated, glaring at him. "Speaking of that," she leaned it close to him, making it so that she was looking him straight up in the eyes, "you should know that if you betray the CIA, betray me......the deal is off. Which means I can use any means necessary to get what I want. I could torture you to no end and kick the living shit out of you." Anna stepped away from him and brushed her fingers over her bare upper chest. "So, personally, I hope you don't help us out." She started to walk towards the hotel. Sark ran to catch up with her. "Everyday, your purity and goodness becomes more and more obvious to me."  
  
She continued to stare straight ahead. "I don't get paid enough to be nice to you."  
  
"Now is that something a wife would say to her loving husband?" Sark said, intertwining his arm with hers as they approached the hotel entrance.  
  
Anna tried to jerk her arm away but Sark's breath caught her ear. "Ah, ah, ah.....we're supposed to be married....didn't you review the mission, superagent?  
  
Her eyes got smaller, as she glanced at him through the corner of her eye. "Shut up. I know what I'm doing."  
  
Sark's arm snaked its way around her slim waist, his hand sliding across her smooth back. "I don't doubt you know what to do."  
  
"Are you actually this cheesy all the time or is part of the act?" Anna retorted through clenched teeth. "I mean, do these lines actually work for you?"  
  
Sark smiled graciously at the doorman. "Usually I don't have too. Women just fall at my feet."  
  
"From revulsion."  
  
"You're a difficult one though."  
  
Anna sighed as they walked through the corridor of the brightly lit hotel. "Either that or actually have a mind....which I'm sure you're Barbie imitator girlfriends do not!"  
  
Sark tried to swallow his laugh. "Wow, jealous already? I think our relationship is progressing nicely."  
  
"If by progressive, you mean non-existent."  
  
Sark smiled brilliantly as they entered the dining hall, where the party was being held. "Mr. and Mrs. James," he stated in a pleasant manner to the host, holding the guest list. "And isn't my wife looking smashing tonight!" Sark gave Anna a quick peck on the cheek.  
  
Anna's eyes flashed disgust as they made their way into the lavishly decorated dining hall. "I hate you, you son of a bitch."  
  
"It's all in the act......which you haven proven yourself to be expert at." He pulled out a chair for her at a round, large diner table. He sat down beside her, reading the name cards on the table.  
  
"Yeah, well act this, jerk!" She tossed her 'purse' which was packed with gear, some of which was pretty heavy, casually at his chest. Anna smiled sweetly at him as she stood and went to the waiter.  
  
Sark realized that this was not going to be an easy night.  
  
*********  
  
"I'm not dancing with you, I'm not dancing with you," Anna repeated through a forced smile. Sark put his hand on her neck gently. "Well if you have any better ideas on how to get to the other side of the room without simply walking over there obviously, tell me!"  
  
Anna sighed in defeat. "And you said I couldn't do this mission alone...."  
  
He took her in his arms on the dance floor and to any casual observers, the two looked entirely natural and complete in that moment. What those people didn't know is that the whole they were dancing, looking serene and pleasant, they were having a heated argument about the best way to access the door.  
  
"Now?" Anna asked impatiently into Sark's ear, sending shivers down his spine.  
  
Sark hand traveled back and forth across the tender skin of her lower back thoughtlessly. "We might want to wait until the changing of the guards." He felt her tremble under his touch. "What, nervous are we, superspy?"  
  
Anna pulled back slightly, looking him straightly in the eyes. "Just sickened." She moved closer to him again, her cheek resting on his coat slightly and she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she was really just dancing; she wasn't an agent on a mission; she wasn't dancing with someone on the Most Wanted List; she was just in this moment.  
  
"It's time."  
  
Anna pulled away, looking distracted and frazzled. Sark watched her, amused. "What—enjoying that, were you?  
  
She recovered quickly, returning his glance icily. "Just trying to keep my gag reflex in check, that's all."  
  
"What a lady!" He danced them over to the corner of the room, where she took some sort of gadget from her purse and placed it on the wall. "Ready?" she asked.  
  
Sark watched the guards closely. "In one...two....now!"  
  
Anna pressed the button, and the lights in the ballroom went out for a moment. When they were back on, no one noticed that the attractive young couple had disappeared.  
  
*********  
  
Sark and Anna took the elevator to the basement floor, where they met a decked out guard. Anna took him out with a straight sucker punch. She tried to hide a grin when Sark, looking impressed, commented, "I'm having vivid flashbacks."  
  
They hurried down the hallway to a large doorway, opening a small keypad. "Tell me you know this code."  
  
Sark closed his eyes briefly, trying to recall it. "59024234." The door started to slide open and Anna and Sark were met with the confused but hardening stares of two beefy guards, their machine guns dangling around their necks. Anna and Sark glanced at eachother, their eyes speaking volumes. She kneed one of the guards in the groin, while Sark twisted the arm of the other one. Both were down in seconds but Anna watched horrified as five more started coming down the hallway and an alarm started to ring.  
  
Again, Anna's eyes met Sark's. "Bail!" they both exclaimed at the same time. They tore down the hall quickly, jumping into the elevator back down to the main floor.  
  
Sark and Anna hurried down the red-carpet stairs and walked quickly into the first ballroom. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing it was a wedding reception. Her eyes met Sark's instaneously. "We need to sit down, now!"  
  
The room was fairly quiet as Anna and Sark took their places at a table with a few empty spots in the corner of the room. A passing thought entered her mind; they were crashing someone's wedding! Anna pulled an abandoned purple shawl lying on a nearby chair around her shoulders as Sark pulled off his dinner jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. 'Sark, pull out some of the pins in my hair!" Anna ordered in a low whisper. He unwound her hair pins, his hands moved through the soft chestnut curls as they cascaded across her bare back. "Sark, the guard are going to come in, look around the room and see us--we need a diversion!"  
  
Taking her cue, Sark tinkled his glass with the silver knife lying on the table. "What are you doing?" Anna asked, her eyes watching worriedly as people looked over to them.  
  
"You wanted a diversion, you got one. Keep your back to the door, move to the center of the room. Sometimes the most obvious things are the most hidden. Oh....and this is for being difficult this evening." Sark stood up with his glass, making his way to the center of the room. "I think my lovely wife would like to say something to the bride and groom on their special day," he said graciously.  
  
Anna stood up slowly and moved infront of Sark, pulling the purple shawl around her shoulders, her hair falling prettily in ringlets down her back. She looked around the crowd apprehensively and noticed that the groom and bride smiled, even though they had no idea who she was. *I'm going to kill him*, Anna thought, turning around to pierce his eyes with a look of pure hatred. "Ugh...well, I just wanted to say to--," she glanced at the nearby cake for their names, "Bob and Sherry....here's to a long and happy--" She broke off, her eyes filling with tears and she put her hand on her chest, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Anna wiped the corners of her eyes, trying to compose herself. "Oh my God, wow, this is so emotional. To see two people, so in love--" She broke down again, bowing her head. "You know, obviously I can't do this. But I think my husband *Dick*, knows exactly what to say. Dick?" she emphasized the name  
  
Anna lifted her head, her eyes dry now as she smiled sweetly at Sark. He came up beside her, his hands on her waist. "You are something else."  
  
Sark turned towards the bridal table, addressing them with applause. "I think what my beautiful wife was trying to say--well, she couldn't quite get it out. Might be that chemical imbalance thing; a bit off her rocker, this one," he started, nodding towards Anna. "In fact, you know sometimes she makes up these fantasies, you know? Or even pretends to be someone else! Can you imagine? I mean this one time she actually pretended to be a woman named Isabella...a complete stranger to me?" He laughed and Anna forced herself to smile at him, as the rest of the guests looked flabbergasted. "When we first met, she pretended to hate me.....but I knew, right from the start.....that she was enraptured." Sark held up his champagne glass to Anna, sensing the guards scanning the room for them as he heard the rustles of their weapons  
  
Anna grabbed her flute too and downed it in heartbeat, prepared to exact a little public revenge. "If by enraptured, darrrrling, you mean disgusted. He's a bit cocky you see. And seems to think he's the best looking guy to ever walk this planet. But come on---and talk about pretending over here--" She pointed at Sark. "This guy put on this act the first time I met him just to try and sleep with me---at an airport no less. And he was still kind of seeing someone at the time. Honestly, who does that?!" The guards had given up the search in that ballroom and the crowd was looking restless and uncomfortable but a few of them looked amused and interested as Anna and Sark argued.  
  
"You attracted me, what can I say? How I don't know. You're a bit of a frigid bitch," Sark retorted, his eyes glinting in the dimmed lights.  
  
Anna opened her mouth wide and a loud sound came out. The guests were stirred up by his words and starting whispering to one another conspiratorally. "Well, what's so great about you? You lie, you cheat--"  
  
"Cheater!" some people in the crowd cried out. The bride and groom now looked severely stressed.  
  
"You steal.....I mean, what don't you do? You are such a bastard, do you know that? I must say, ladies, the English--not so great" Anna said furiously, drinking another glass of champagne.  
  
Sark clapped his hands together. "Oh and you Americans are so much better. You have no sense of humour, no fun......gee, I wish I could be like you and be so damn boring all the time. You're living the good life. Cheers!"  
  
"Go to hell." Anna exclaimed in a singsong voice and started to walk away but turned around suddenly. "Wait, wait, just for all you ladies who want to make a try on *Dick* here. Though his name suggests......well, he's seriously lacking." Anna clapped her purse on his crotch and strode from the room, removing the purple shawl as she did. Sark just stood in the center of the hall, his expression surprised and incredulous but also a bit impressed too.  
  
*********  
  
Sark left the wedding reception with a smile on his face. Even he had to admit that that Anna was never boring. "Damnit, where is she?" he wondered aloud as he searched the empty halls. He felt two hands grab his jacket and pull him into a dark room of some sort. "What the--?" Sark was cut off by a soft hand that covered his mouth.  
  
"Honestly, you're supposed to be this big, English spy and you can't keep it quiet for more than 2 seconds," Anna whispered into his ear, warm breath tinkling his neck. "We're in a utility closet--in case you didn't notice those security guys, you know, the ones armed with MACHINE GUNS, were just around the corner. They're still looking for us! And we need that information!"  
  
"Listen, I know a way we can get upstairs. But you'll have to trust me," Sark informed her plainly.  
  
He could see Anna shaking her head firmly. "No way. I make the calls here. You're in custody; you don't get control!"  
  
Sark spun her around and lifted her chin so their eyes would meet. "Damnit, you only have me. Either trust me or we don't make it out of here and you go back to the CIA with nothing. I get nothing if we succeed and nothing if we don't so there's zero in it for. I'm offering my services."  
  
She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply. "Fine. But I don't trust you."  
  
Sark rolled his blue eyes in frustration. "Ok, whatever. But we need---," he rumaged through the closet, "there, wear this!" He handed her some sort of clothing item and started unbuttoning his shirt. Anna lifted up her eyebrows questioningly before giving in and turned her body from his, pulling off her red dress. The closet was getting extremely hot and their skin touched, eliciting invisible sparks.  
  
"A maid's uniform?"  
  
Sark looked her over. "I think they prefer the term 'staff'!" He himself had on a pair of old coveralls. He rolled up their clothes and threw them in the mopping bucket, removing the necessary gear from Anna's purse. "Ready?"  
  
Anna glared at him suspiciously. "No."  
  
Sark half-smiled. "Good." He grabbed her hand and led her out the closet, pushing a cart full of hotel maintenance items.  
  
Anna felt nervous; she was putting everything into this man, a man renowned for his treachery and deception. Where they would end up was anyone's guess. 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I know this is a short chapter but I think it works! I hope you guys are liking this story. Special thanks to the three of you who have reviewed. It's great to know that someone is reading. You guys rock!!  
  
Anna and Sark had made it back down the basement easily, searching for guards around all corners. The basement seemed pretty empty of guards, as they had created a distraction upstairs, with a 'trail' as to divert their attention for a short while. Sark inputed the code again and the two ran through the doorway hurriedly.  
  
"Lab 6!" Anna called out to Sark and he nodded, his eyes quickly scanning the room numbers. "Here!" He yelled at her, running towards the nearest computer in the lab. Anna came up beside him, breathing loudly.  
  
She took out the descrambler from her purse, attaching to the computer's base. "Ok, ok, ok......access grant....so far so good." Anna entered the program; trying to find the location of the serum they needed. Apparently Sloane was offering militant Middle Eastern groups drops of deadly disease to use as a weapon, in exchange for their support in the search for the Rambaldi artifacts and the takedown of the CIA inclusively. "Shit!" she swore.  
  
Sark immediately looked closely at the computer screen. "The virus is in a different room which can only be unlocked from here. It's simultaneous.....ok, so I'll go and pry the door open the moment you activate the code. This red icon will flash on the screen when I'm within 3 feet of the door," he said brusquely, nearing the exit.  
  
Anna held out her hand to stop him. "Oh no you don't. You may have gotten us this far but there is no way I'm letting you get the virus. I don't trust you for one second. You'll probably hand that thing to Sloane or those terrorists in a heartbeat."  
  
Sark's eyes flashed angrily. "Right, or we can just sit here all day! Anna-- you have me tracked. Anywhere I go, you'll know about it!"  
  
Anna ran her hand through her curls, trying to make a decision. *You have control here, it's your call,* she tried to convince herself. Mostly she just didn't want to make a mistake and cause the CIA to lose out. Worse, she didn't want Sloane to win. That was the last thing she wanted. "Fine....but I'm going....you stay hear and get the code." She headed for the doorway, checking to make sure they were no armed guards in the hallway. "But you if you trick me, I will make your life a living hell."  
  
Sark glanced up from the computer screen, his fingers paused from typing. "Because you've made oh so pleasant thus far."  
  
Anna gave him a look packed with strength and threats before running out the door and back down the hallway. She ran as fast as she could, considering she was wearing heels, hitting a guard smack in the chest. She fell to the ground but recovered quickly, high-kicking away his gun. She flipped over him then doubled-back, spinning around as she smashed her leg to his chest and face three times. Another man grabbed her from behind by the waist, dragging her away from the door only a short distance away. She spread her legs, her heels jamming into the narrow hallway's walls violently, backflipping behind the guard. Anna grabbed the baton from his belt and hit him squarely on the head, rendering him unconscious. She panted, pausing for a moment to catch her breath before grabbing their guns and continuing down the hallway.  
  
Sark, meanwhile, tapped his foot impatiently on the tiled floor. The red icon hadn't started flashing yet and judging from the floor plans, the room with the virus wasn't that far away. Anna should have been there by now. He knew they were cutting it short; by now security would have realized that the situation upstairs had been a diversion and would be searching for them. His hands grazed his short hair, his eyes never leaving the computer screen. Sark couldn't help but wonder if this was worry for Anna he was feeling. "No, no," he discounted that theory aloud, thinking that perhaps maybe he feared what would happen to him if she didn't survive. It would look like he had let it happen and the CIA would never get off his back. On the other hand, if she was killed, he could escape and go back to his boss, returning with gifts; the death of a CIA agent and the virus.  
  
As he waited anxiously for the icon to flash, he knew what he had to do.  
  
********************  
  
Anna slowly walked to the door, checking the intersection of hallways for security guards. Back in the lab, Sark exhaled, automatically of course, when the red light started to flash on the computer screen.  
  
Anna opened the door, her eyes widening hopefully, seeing the glass tube, as she entered the room, not noticing the large man behind her, heaving a baton above head. He knocked her out, her athletic form falling to the ground in a heap of red cloth.  
  
In the lab, Sark waited for Anna to come back and was thoroughly surprised when she hadn't come back within 5 minutes of the door opening. He decided to take his chances and started out the room and into the hallway, seeing the open door at the end of the hallway. Upon reaching it, he saw it was empty except for a small piece of deep red satiny-feeling piece of cloth. Her dress. Sark searched the room, seeing no other signs that Anna was ever there. His eyes glinted when he saw the simple glass vial laying untouched in the middle of the room on a glass table. Everything he ever wanted was within arm's reach.  
  
**********  
  
Anna's eyes opened hazily and she had no idea where she was. Steam enveloped her body and she could feel the immense heat of the room overpowering her senses. A large hand slapped her cheek hard; Anna winced in pain, forcing herself to look at her assailant. A muscular man carrying a gun and what had been used to knock her out, bent down, placing his elbows on his knees. She tried to sit up straight but struggled, realizing her arms were handcuffed to a metal railing. Anna tried to shake the rail off the wall but it stayed put, not budging an inch.  
  
"Ah....pretty, pretty. You're a nice one. But, honey, there's no point. It's not gonna come out," the man said, motioning towards the railing.  
  
She refused to look at him and continued to try to free herself, not noticing the mounting bruises on her arm and getting more panicked as she realized he was right.  
  
The man laughed cattily, thoroughly enjoying her struggle. "I've had orders to put you here, baby doll."  
  
Her eyes lifted menacingly. "Don't call me that."  
  
The man laughed again, this time more loudly and obnoxiously. "Sure, whatever you say, baby!"  
  
Anna heaved forward, spitting in his face and grinning snidely. The man moved closer to her, the look on his face murderous and his hand outstretched. But then he resisted from hurting her, seeming to remember something. "I'm not supposed to hurt ya. That's what he said. He said you're to stay here until he comes to do it himself. Do you know, sweeeeetie, how long it takes this boiler room to fill up with unimaginable amounts of steam. Not long. In fact—," He looked around the room, moving his fingers through the steam, "it's already started. And you know that steam burns the flesh right off of ya, eh?"  
  
Anna felt her heart start to pound. Realizing that the guard wasn't kidding, her mind tried to figure out who this man kept referring to. Who was 'he'?  
  
The man stood up, twirling his gun around his fingers. "Well, I'm off. Happy burning." He turned to leave, but turned back, noticing the guns she had stolen from the other guards earlier. He kicked them far away from her, one going over the side of the stairwell, the other a few feet too far for her to reach. Anna felt her last glimmer of hope fade. She leaned her head dejectedly against the railing, wondering how long it would take before the steam started to burn her sensitive skin. Was this how it was going to end?  
  
************  
  
The door to the furnace room banged open and Anna heard footsteps approaching her, the figure shrouded in darkness. She tried to lift up her head but she immediately felt waves of dizziness sweep over her. Anna watched apprehensively as dark shoes came closer and closer.  
  
Sark carefully picked up the gun lying away from Anna, approaching her slowly. She hung her head, knowing what was coming. She had been so stupid; he was the guy the man who had put her in the boiler room was talking about!  
  
"Well, you get everything this time. The information, a CIA agent out of the picture. Congrats...," Anna said sullenly, struggling to take breaths in the overheated room.  
  
He bent down infront of her, one hand reaching out to caress her face, brushing away the stray strands of damp hair. "You know that I have to do this," he stated simply.  
  
She jerked her head away from him. "Why, because you're an evil bastard?" Anna avoided his eyes, forcing herself to turn her expression into something blank and emotionless.  
  
He once again stood up, levelling the gun towards her. "Because I always finish what I start.....and doesn't this look familiar? I'm hoping that it will end differently this time."  
  
"You should know that this isn't over, even if you kill me. The others-- Sydney, Vaughn, Dixon--they'll hunt you down."  
  
Sark smiled slightly, gently biting his lower lip. "I know it's only the beginning." For the second time in a month he fired at her casually, his eyes focused on her cringing face. "Done and done." 


	9. Chapter 9

"And then he shot apart the handcuffs and helped me out of that damn furnace room. So, yeah, Sark basically saved my ass!" Anna said, leaning her back against the headboard of her bed. Sydney moved to legs into the crosslegged position on top of Anna's covers, her pajama pants and inch too short. "Wow."  
  
Anna exhaled deeply, still feeling a smidge of shock herself. "Yeah, tell me about. I mean, when was holding that gun towards me....I thought for sure....that was it! But he actually helped me.....saved me.....without him, I'd be dead," she tried to say matter-of-factly, but her voice quivered with emotion.  
  
Sydney pulled her friend into a comforting hug. "I just wonder....why....as glad as I am to have you safe, why didn't he run?"  
  
"I have no idea," Anna said softly, her brown eyes staring out the window pensively.  
  
Why had he come back for her?  
  


* * *

  
Anna strode through the CIA briskly, heading toward the prison cells and carrying a small bundle. She felt distanced slightly from the sounds of the gates opening, only returning back to earth when she stood in front of the man who had saved her from a most painful death. Anna passed the bundle through the box, neither Sark nor her saying anything. He glanced her over quickly, his eyes flickering as he glimpsed a large purple bruise on her left cheek.  
  
Sark broke the silence. "Anna, your cheek....are you alri--"  
  
She held up her hands to silence him, motioning for him to unwrap the bundle. "Blankets, a pillow. Kendall was impressed and decided you should be rewarded. You didn't tell me you had taken the serum....I thought it was lost to the CIA.....but you got it," Anna swallowed her pride. "Good work," she said simply, turning to leave.  
  
Sark voice hit her like a ton of bricks. "Don't you want to know why?"  
  
She turned back slowly, keeping a fair distance from the glass....a fair distance from the intense blueness of his eyes. But she couldn't keep herself from looking up at his concerned face, his forehead creased in thoughtful wrinkles. Nothing needed to be said.  
  
Anna nodded, understanding their unspoken conversation, and gave a small smile, walking backwards a few paces.  
  
Sark grinned, his smile reaching his sparkling eyes. "Hey, Anna--"  
  
"It's Agent Parker to you," she said, her voice serious but her smile larger.  
  
Sark leaned against the glass window of his cell. "Maybe for our next mission, you could come through on your side, eh?"  
  
"Our next mission? Now, who's getting ahead of themselves....and that's assuming the CIA is gonna put you on another leash!" Anna exclaimed, her eyebrows raised.  
  
"I'm pretty sure I came through on this one...we got the virus and the agent to show for it!"  
  
Anna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't hold your breath on getting out of here." She paused momentarily. "Actually on second thought, give it a whirl."  
  
Sark licked his lips, still smiling. "What and deprive you of this banter? You'd miss me." "Like I miss a bad rash....or my college boyfriend, for that matter."  
  
Sark never missed an opportunity. "Boyfriend....that must be a tough gig!"  
  
"No, what must be tough for you is finding women that actually buy into the whole European, I-have-an-accent, slick thing you got going on.....and that haircut. The Neo-Nazi style's been dead for while. Catch up...do the 80s mullet thing, then maybe try a little 70-30 part for the 90s...see where ya end up!" Anna retorted, feigning sweet helpfulness.  
  
"There's the superagent with the extraordinary people skills I remember!" Anna waved her hand, indicating the conversation was over. She grinned the whole time she walked back into the main office. Things were back to normal.  
  
**************A few weeks later  
  


* * *

  
Anna fidgeted with her black dress, trying to keep the thin straps up as she walked through the open gates. "Hey, hey," she said, greeting Sark in an informal manner. Their relationship as handler and asset had gotten more casual but Anna still made it clear that they were were NOT friends, never had been and never would be. He was, as Jack had perfectly put it, a necessary evil. Sark was still Anna's enemy, no matter how informal their discussions got.  
  
Sark's eyes looked her over appreciatively. "Don't tell me you got all dressed up for me!"  
  
"No, as a matter of fact I have a date tonight that I'm already late for," Anna explained, running her fingers through her long, shiny hair.  
  
"You date? There's a real fun-filled event!" Sark said sarcastically, his eyes watching her every move.  
  
"I can be fun.....it just depends on the company....and yours doesn't bring out the best in me!" Sark threw his head back in defeat. "Ok, ok...so where'd you meet this guy you are allegedly going out with? A street corner?"  
  
Anna looked at him upwardly, carefully putting on lip gloss sans a mirror. "No, you're getting us confused! Besides, he happens to be a very respectable.......well, everyone has said nice....--" Sark interrupted her. "Blind date, huh?"  
  
Anna stood, trying to come up with some witty retort but failed miserably, her mouth open but no sound coming out. "So what?....wait, you're not jealous.....are you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.  
  
"I don't get jealous. Besides, I've said this before.....you're not my type."  
  
Anna nodded in agreement. "True. What kind of man wants a woman that can totally kick his ass!"  
  
He cocked his head, half-smiling. "As much as I love these interactions....what do you want?"  
  
"Oh, right.....Kendall wants to know if you know anything about....a woman.....named....hold on, I have it right here....ah, there! Alison Doren is her name!" Her eyes looked up from the sheet, seeing Sark's paling complexion and wide eyes. "I take it you know her."  
  
Sark turned from the glass window and walked the length of his cell, running his hands over his face. "One could say that," he said vaguely.  
  
Anna looked at him interestedly. "This is off to a great start. Anything else?"  
  
"Ughhh....well, she's a freelancer, doing jobs here and there for various cells. Trained in Russia, her parents were both KGB."  
  
She took all this information down quickly, checking her watch. "Ok, great, we've got evidence she's been seen with Sloane." Anna slid some photographs through the slot. "Any idea why she might be meeting with him? So far we've come up with no connections between the two. Seems pretty random."  
  
Sark flipped through the pictures absent-mindedly. "Pretty random," he repeated dully.  
  
Anna's chocolate eyes melted through him. "Are you feeling ok? You seem a little off today? Well, I guess no more than usual!" She flashed him a bright smile, waiting for his reply. "Seriously, are you alright? You have NEVER missed an opportunity to argue with me!"  
  
Sark shook the preoccupying thoughts from his mind. "Oh yeah, yes I'm fine. Just tired." Anna glanced again at her watch. "I am so beyond late. Well, I'll see you soon....Maybe get some rest or something, eh?" She glanced back at him before turning the corner, feeling a twinge of....worry? Sark sat on the bed, the photos still in his hands. He went through them again, focusing on Alison's face; a face he felt like he hadn't seen in forever and just yesterday all at the same time. He knew he hadn't been completely honest with Anna. He should've told her his history with Alison....how they had both worked for the same anti-US organization at 18 and partnered together to take down that very same group.  
  
Sark was also surprised that he didn't feel anything when seeing how chummy Alison looked with his former boss, Arvin Sloane. The one thing he did feel fear for was the CIA, specifically the agents, well, Anna, he supposed, that would have to come up against Alison. She was excellently trained, her skills superior than any other trainee, and she was relatively fearless. Alison would not hesitate to kill whoever stood in her way and Sark wondered whether that was why Alison had been recruited by Sloane. Sloane was known for giving special assignments.....so what was Alison's? Why had the two allowed themselves to be photographed together? It all seemed so planned, as to make it obvious to the CIA.  
  
Sark let the photos slide to the ground, letting his head hit the pillow comfortably. He needed to stop thinking; he couldn't solve everything. Besides, it wasn't his puzzle to solve..........  
  
*****************   
  


* * *

  
"Did you like her? Were you attracted to her?" Alison asked accusingly. "Don't even bother lying. I could see it."  
  
"What, you were watching? Darling, that's a little frightening!" Sark replied calmly, trying to pull her into his arms.  
  
Alison jerked away from him, her chocolately arms folding across her chest. "Don't start. When you said it was over....," she paused, her voice nearly yelling. "I should have known that you would just go and find someone else, someone else stupid enough to fall for your lies! And, ugh, did you even really look at her? So plain, so simple...so boring!" Alison exclaimed hotly. Sark's eyes glinted in the bright lights of the room. "Say what you want about me. But you leave her alone. She has done nothing to you!"  
  
Alison laughed cruelly. "Oh, no! You have *feelings* for her.....again, my stupidity....you always get involved. Do you even know what she is? Do you?"  
  
"CIA. She's CIA," Sark said, his voice greatly lowered.  
  
Alison looked at him incredulously. "And you still give a shit about this chick? She *lied* to you. And I bet the first chance she gets, she'll trick you. She'll get into custody and they'll execute you. That's what the CIA does!"  
  
Sark jumped off the bed, backing Alison into the wall gently. "I told you to stop. She's different than us. Leave her out of this....this is about me and you....not me and Anna."  
  
"Oh, oh, oh! You and Anna? There's a you and Anna? Anna?! You're right in one respect. This is not about me and you and you and her....it's just about her." Alison pushed Sark away from her violently. "She's got to go."  
  
"Don't."  
  
"No, it's been ordered. And since you don't have the balls to do it yourself, I've been assigned to eliminate your precious agent girlfriend," Allison stated, smirking happily.  
  
Sark's blue eyes jumped at this news. "She's not my girlfriend. She's nothing to me. You know the only important person in my life is you, Alison, it's always been you," he said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders emphatically.  
  
Alison reached up, caressing his cheek. "Baby, I wish I could believe that." Alison pulled out her gun, loading it. "But I can't. So I'm doing this for Sloane....and for us." "Julian?" Anna stepped into the light, her brown hair gleaming and her eyes unnaturally bright. "I don't understand. You said you didn't really know her," she said, obviously confused, and pointing at Alison.  
  
Alison stepped forward, nearing Anna, weilding her gun tauntingly. "See, honey, that's what he does, he lies! And unfortunately for you, you are just one more casualty." Sark tried to grab the gun from Alison, but it was like he was now invisible. All he could do was watch Anna die.  
  
*******************   
  


* * *

  
Sark sat up suddenly, struggling to catch his breath and wiping the moisture off his neck. That was it; Alison was going to kill Anna. "Hey, finally!"  
  
Sark spun around to see Anna lounging in a chair with her heels kicked off, still wearing the black dress. For once, she was actually in his cell, not behind the glass. "Anna...wha-what are you doing here?" he questioned, his eyes still frantic.  
  
"What's wrong? Do I look that hideous! You look so....frightened? Aww....did you have a baddy waddy dream?" she kidded, putting aside her magazine.  
  
He ran his hands over his short hair, realizing that he had been dreaming. It was all a dream, he thought, feeling both relieved and anxious at the same moment. "No--it was nothing. You still haven't told me what you're doing in here so late at night....what, couldn't resist?" It was all coming back to him now.  
  
Anna gave him a fake smile. "Yeah, in your dreams....though I guess not....that must have been some dream, you were rolling around a lot and saying things....but I didn't understand any of it." She shrugged, crossing her legs. "Anyway, the reason I'm here is....well, to be honest my date went horribly and I can't go home yet....Francie and Syd set me up and they'll be so disappointed, so I thought what better way to revive my self- confidence then to spend an hour with you!"  
  
"Ha. You're funny. But couldn't you get in some serious CIA trouble?"  
  
"Pssh....it's late, the only ones here are the guards and I've gotten to know them pretty well." Sark nodded in agreement. "If you say so...So what was wrong with your date? He was breathing?"  
  
Anna gave him the evil eye, passing him a box of donuts. "Yeah, I snuck these in. They're my guilty pleasure--no comments, please! Anyway, so this guy...seriously, he looked like Splinter...you know the rat from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"  
  
"Splinter?" Sark asked, having no idea what she was talking about but smiling at her effort. Anna nearly fell off her chair, laughing. "Oh, come on! The Ninja Turtles!! You have to know who they are....crime fighting super-hero turtles and their master is this like totally kick-ass rat guy named..." She stopped, seeing that Sark was avidly trying to control his laughter. Anna swapped him playfully on the shoulder, taking another bite of her donut. "Ok, so whatever, either way, this guy had this drooling thing going on and the whole time at dinner he kept darting his eyes around, convinced people were watching him eat. So, I ditched him."  
  
Sark leaned his back against the wall, thinking that Anna always had something interesting to say. "Sounds like you made a good decision."  
  
"Yeah, and I'm gonna make another. No more blind dates!" Anna smiled, her expression turning more serious. "I'm finished with the dating scene. It's just too hard, you know?" Her eyes looked faraway. "What do you mean?" Sark asked, his blue eyes inquisitive. And for once, he really did want to know. It wasn't just a question to get information, or a question out of politeness. Sark was really interested.  
  
Her eyes avoided his, staring at her feet. "Dating is just so hard. Especially after you've had that perfect relationship. Once you've been happy, is it possible to feel like that again? Ah, I don't know...."  
  
"Anna, you can tell me....I'm not going anywhere...obviously!"  
  
She laughed softly but it didn't reach her eyes. "I can't believe I'm spilling my guts to you....you're a horrible person!....but, I guess it's the only thing I have right now. You see, I met Sam in my first year of college. He was so great; cute, smart, romantic...God, it was amazing! We fell in love so fast that my head was just spinning the whole time!" Anna's mouth upturned in spite of herself, and Sark smiled at her encouragingly. "And just....everything was great...he made me feel needed...and wanted. My parents had both been dead for a while and I was so used to having no one that it was almost scary how much I loved him. And I was right! I made a mistake by falling in love with him." Tears fell down her cheeks and she made no move to wipe them away. "But then, do you know where I found the body? In the garage....he was building me this incredible bookshelf for Valentine's day....apparently it was a break-in and Sam being there had startled the robbers. So I lost him....in a moment he was gone. And it's been years and I can't escape his memory. Especially now that I've found out that SD-6 was not the CIA. And after what happened to Danny, Sydney's fiance...it just seems too perfect." Anna suddenly became silent, the memories of Sam flooding her mind.  
  
Sark felt a sharp pain in his chest and he didn't understand what it was. He didn't know what to say, how to sympathize. But deep within, he wished there was something that he could say to calm her; to reassure her. He wanted to wipe her tears away and tell her it was ok; that everything was going to be ok. But he couldn't. The only thing he could do was tell her his story.  
  
"I have a story too," he said, watching her wipe the tears quickly from her face. "There's something that you need to know....You asked me about Alison Doren earlier....there were a few details I left out."  
  
Anna's eyebrows furrowed together. "Details?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"Alison and I....well we worked together for the same organization; we trained together. But it's more than that. We were....well, we had a relationship outside of our business dealings--" "Did you?!" Anna interjected hotly. "Why didn't you tell me--"  
  
"Anna, let me finish. I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was important. We ended things a little while ago...or so I thought. At our first meeting in Marseilles, she was there. Alison witnessed the whole thing under Sloane's orders. When she accosted me at the airport, things...well, heated up again, I suppose you could say. But I had to end whatever it was with her for reasons I don't want nor am willing to discuss. Naturally, Alison is not pleased and so it seems she went scurrying back to Sloane. Before you got me, there was a rumour that she was looking for revenge on me, but of that, I don't know if anything is certain."  
  
Anna bit her lip, trying to process this new information. "So you lied to me...pretended like you barely heard of her!"  
  
"No, I didn't lie....I just neglected to tell you everything."  
  
"Why tell me now? What changed in a few hours?" she interrogated accusingly, her laid-back manner vanished. Sark frowned. "I've had time to think, I guess. I know that Alison operates out of a club in Zurich; that's the centre of everything she does, where all the information is. I'm assuming that you're going there."  
  
Her brown eyes pierced his blue ones, neither pair flinching. "You're right. I leave tomorrow." She started to pick up her things in a rushed manner. Anna lifted her head for a moment. "Everything....everything that we had accomplished...whatever unspoken agreement we had reached is gone. You should've told me everything straight out." She opened the door to his cell. Sark suddenly stood up and was at the door in a second, barring her from leaving. "Don't make me hurt you," she said firmly.  
  
"Anna, listen to me. The reason I told you all this is that Alison knows you. She has seen your face and if she's working with Sloane then she knows everything there is to know about you. I'm telling you that she is good at what she does. She won't hesitate to kill you--"  
  
Her brown eyes flashed. "What, like you tried to?" She bowed out under his arm but he caught it forcefully. Anna spun her head around, prepared to use her training practically.  
  
"Damnit, listen to me. Alison will kill you if you give her the chance. It's not even about you. It's about getting back at me. She *wants* to end your life."  
  
Anna pulled her arm away angrily. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself! What do you care for anyway?"  
  
"I'm not interested in getting another agent as the go between!" he said, not telling her the full truth.  
  
Anna rolled her eyes, her anger subsiding. "Oh well that's sweet." She pointed her finger away, walking away backwards. "Don't think you're getting rid of me so easily. I'm the one that put you away and that's how it's going to stay!"  
  
It was Sark's turn to roll his eyes. "Just watch out," he warned seriously.  
  
Anna waved his warning away, turning around the corner. Sark wondered if he would ever see Anna again, knowing of Alison's will to kill and her desire to get back at him. He tried to shrug it off but ended up not sleeping at all for the rest of the night. I'm not going to sleep well until Anna comes back, he realized, feeling disheartened. If she came back. 


	10. Chapter 10

Sark heard the gates open and stood expectantly. "Well, well, well, look who's--," his voice broke off when he saw a frazzled Sydney Bristow standing before him. Where was Anna?  
  
Sydney looked at him eye to eye, her own eyes filled with emotion. "She didn't come back."  
  
Sark looked at the ground, not sure what to say. He didn't know what to say because he didn't know how he felt about it. Part of him was perfectly calm, remembering that he had warned Anna that it would be dangerous and that there was nothing he could have done to spare her life. But there was some other part of him that was not as emotionless. Sark felt responsible in a way; he knew what Alison would do. He had let Anna die.  
  
Sydney's quavering voice broke into his confused thoughts. "We have reason to believe that Doren has captured her for information."  
  
Sark's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. "She's alive? I thought...."  
  
"I never said she was dead. But we are not certain that Doren has Anna. However, sources indicate that Ann--Agent Parker is still alive," Sydney finished, realizing she was being informal by using her friend's first name.  
  
'Right." Sark tried to process this information, more unknown feelings washing over him. Was this relief?  
  
"Listen, I need your help. The reason Anna was caught was because the information the CIA received on Doren's centre of operations was faulty. Our source usually reliable but this time they were misinformed. The exit which Anna was supposed to leave from did not exist....it was supposed to be on the base floor, in the left wing--"  
  
"There is no exit there," Sark commented, his eyebrows furrowing together.  
  
Sydney's eyes watched Sark's face inquisitively. "So you know this building then? How to get in, out?"  
  
Sark returned her stare just as intently."Yes, I do," he stated simply.  
  
'Will you help her? Will you help Anna?" Sydney ceded to informalities. This was her best friend they were talking about.  
  


* * *

  
Anna blinked profusely as a bright light was turned on in the previous darkened room, her eyes burning. She was uncomfortably restrained to a stiff, metal chair, and hadn't eaten or drank anything in days. She struggled to remember how many days ago she had been captured; it felt like years but Anna knew it could have only been a couple of days. Faulty information. It had been faulty info that had gotten her captured. The mission had been running smoothly. She had made it into the club no problem, then hit the basement and found the adjacent hallway to the house where Alison Doren's operation centre was. Anna had even copied Doren's harddrive to a disk and was trying to exit the building when she realized there was no exit. Security guards had chased her down and she'd been sitting here ever since.  
  
Anna squinted to see who stood before her; all she saw was a figure bathed in darkness. She fixated her eyes on the wall infront of her, prepared to reveal nothing about who she was or who she worked for.  
  
A glass of water was placed a foot infront of her temptingly. "If you tell me what you're doing here, I might let you have a sip," a husky female voice said, laughter tingeing in her tone.  
  
Anna continued to look forward silently as Alison circled her chair, running her hands through Anna's long hair. "You know that this is not just about business, don't you?" Alison sat in a chair opposite Anna, looking her over carefully. "It also has to do with Julian....well, you know him as Sark, don't ya now?" Alison ran her hands through her dark hair, mussing it about. "He doesn't really care about you, you know? I mean, if that's what your thinking. It's just a big game. Everything to him is a game. You're just an obstacle. Once he gets past you, you're gone. You'll be nothing."  
  
Anna did nothing, not even blink, which only incensed Alison's anger. Alison slapped her face, a bright red hand mark imprinted on Anna's fair skin. "Say something!" she hissed. "You're jealous," Anna said softly and evenly, her eyes still staring straight ahead.  
  
Alison balked, her eyes dancing. "Jealous of you?! Are you shitting me? He cares about me more than he will ever care about you!"  
  
"Sark is in CIA custody. The two of you are over."  
  
Alison jumped off the table and moved closer to Anna. "What, and the two of you are just getting started?"  
  
"I don't fraternize with criminals," Anna said, her voice still steady. "And I would never lower myself to mixing my personal and professional life."  
  
Alison punched Anna directly in the face, leaving what would darken to be a purple bruise on her left cheek. She pulled a knife from inside her jacket, making practice slashes in the air. Anna watched her, trying to keep her expression fearless.  
  
Alison inched the gleaming knife closer and closer to Anna's face. "I could kill you right now." "So what, are you waiting for my approval?" Anna asked through clenched teeth.  
  
"When I kill you, you won't see it coming." Alison hid the knife back in her jacket and strode out the door, turning the lights off once again.  
  


* * *

  
The bright light flickered on again and Anna winced, her eyes pained. Someone came closer to her, moving behind her. The warm breath of a man's voice touched her ear.  
  
"Anna, you should cooperate with Alison. Just tell her what she wants to know and you might be spared. I can't help you out of this!" It was Sloane, she realized, feeling a wave of hatred boil inside of her. She tried to stay calm but her body shook slightly with the feelings inside of her. "You bastard," she managed to spit out contemptuously.  
  
Sloane caressed her cheek, sitting opposite her. "You know, when I found out that you now work for the CIA with Sydney, I felt saddened. I was hoping to recruit you for my own organization."  
  
"Hell would freeze over before I would ever work for you."  
  
Sloane smiled icily. "Oh, but you did. For years, you obeyed me, did what I asked. You were an asset to SD-6 and you never betrayed me like the Bristows."  
  
Anna ground her teeth, wanting to kill him. "That's because I didn't know that SD-6 wasn't the CIA. If I had known, I would've done what they did. I would've helped to take you down."  
  
Sloane ran his hands over her hair. "But they didn't, now did they? I'm still very much alive and well and free of the CIA."  
  
"Not for long."  
  
"This hostility, Anna! I don't think you know how it hurts me. But you have been somewhat more distanced, since...what was his name now...Sam, ah yes, Sam's death, haven't you?"  
  
Anna jerked forwards, wanting to attack him but her restraints cut into her skin. "You son of a bitch!!! Don't you ever talk about Sam, EVER!" she screamed.  
  
Sloane moved away from her, placing his hands together. "Anna, you know his death was an accident. I had nothing to do with it."  
  
"Nothing to do with it! Like you had nothing to do with Danny's death, except ORDER IT!" Anna yelled, her eyes blazing.  
  
Sloane looked her in the eyes. "I truly did not kill Sam. That is one truth. And you only get one."  
  
Anna bowed her head, trying to get her emotions under control and breathing deeply. "Get out," she said, her voice low.  
  
"I wish that things had ended differently. We could have done great things together." Sloane patted her on the head and left the room as Alison came back in.  
  
Anna was shaking with fury, which Alison watched with pleasure.  
  
"Since you've decided to say nothing, I've been ordered to take extreme measures. Right now, someone in the opposite end of the building is setting it on fire. I can't have the rest of the God-damned CIA out here, hunting through my house for my files and looking for you now, can I?" Alison stopped, smiling at her words. She turned to leave but spun around at the doorway. "It's too bad, I wanted to kill you myself, when I'd have a chance to really fight you. But I suppose burning to death is just as painful." Alison slammed the door shut and Anna heard the click of a lock.  
  


* * *

  
Not long after Alison had left, smoke started to fill her lungs and she knew that the fire must not be far away. Anna tried to free herself from the metal chair for about the hundredth time since Alison had left but it was no use. Anna sniffed the air, smelling a chemical scent fill the room. It was some sort of gas or chemical. She frantically tried to move her chair but it was stuck to the ground. She was trapped.  
  
The door banged open, smoke billowing into the room. Anna blinked, the smoke burning her eyes, as she tried to see who had entered. Was it Sloane again? Or Alison, come to wish her a jubiliant goodbye?  
  
The masked figure knelt down before her, freeing her legs and then moving around back to free her arms and torso. Anna tried to stand up but nearly collapsed; her legs weak from sitting for so long. Her rescuer scooped her up effortlessly and before Anna could see a face, her thoughts hazed over and her consciousness faded away.  
  
The figure carried her from the burning, chemical-filled basement out into a green yard, assuming that most of the inhabitants would have left the grounds because of the fire. He pulled of his mask and bent over Anna, checking her pulse and listening to her chest. He went to give her mouth-to- mouth, his lips almost on hers when she coughed suddenly, rolling over onto her side.  
  
"This is not a date," she joked weakly, seeing that her rescuer was none other than Sark.  
  
He pulled out a water bottle from his jacket and handed it to her, his eyes clouded with concern. "Don't talk."  
  
She collapsed, exhausted, on the grass, breathing heavily. "Yo--you came...how did...?" Her voice trailed off with the exertion of speaking.  
  
"Shhh," he said, bending over her again and checking her for injuries. Sark was so focused on her that he didn't see a mysterious person come up behind him, dressed all in black and wearing a face mask. The figure pulled out a gun, aiming at the back of his head and moving silently.  
  
Sark heard a shot and spun around, seeing the dark figure drop to their knees and kneel over, blood spreading from their chest. Sark looked back at Anna, half-sitting up and clutching his own gun. "Now, we're even," she said tiredly, laying back down.  
  
Sark took a deep breath, realizing how close he had come to being killed. But he recovered quickly and smiled down at Anna's exhausted face. "We are not. It's two to one, Parker. You know it. You still owe me." He helped her up as she was still weak.  
  
Anna put one of her arms around his shoulders for support and they started walking slowly. "Well, I'll repay you with the pleasure of my company!"  
  
Sark laughed. "You never stop, do you?"  
  
"You'd never want me to stop!" They made their way to an awaiting airplane.  
  
Going up the stairway, Sark realized that they had garnered nothing from this mission. "So I guess this mission was pointless....you got nothing but death threats, bruises, and a near death."  
  
"Yeah, they took the copy!" Anna said, reaching into her shirt.  
  
"Whoa, let's save this for the plane!" Sark said, putting his hands up.  
  
Anna glared at him, pulling something small, round and silver from her shirt. She spun it around so he could get a look at it. "It's a mini-disk that Marshall made...you attach it to the computer and it instantly--"  
  
"Copies the hardrive. You made two copies, " Sark finished, looked impressed.  
  
Anna grinned. "So we win. Well, the CIA wins!"  
  
"You're amazing," he complimented, his expression one of admiration.  
  
Anna limped up the stairs. "I am not amazing."  
  
*******On the Airplane  
  


* * *

  
Anna looked at a pocket mirror, horrified by what she saw. Her face was bruised, bloodied and lightly dusted in soot. Her once shiny dark hair was partially in a ponytail, the other half hanging limply by her face. Anna's tight black sports tank top was ripped and torn at the bottom. "Jesus....I look like a car wreck."  
  
Sitting across from her, Sark took the mirror from her hands and looked at her sincerely. "I don't think I've ever seen you look more beautiful."  
  
Anna smiled but her eyes looked full of emotion. "Shut up. Now, who's being all nice?"  
  
"What's nice?" asked Sark, feigning innocence.  
  
Anna rolled her eyes, changing the subject. "So I don't get it. The CIA just let you come out here alone? No guards, no other agents?" Anna asked, surprise echoing in her voice.  
  
Sark grinned. "They trust me--"  
  
"They so do not trust you! I don't even trust you and you've saved my life twice....thanks, by the way," Anna said sheepishly.  
  
Sark smiled before letting this close moment pass. "So you still don't trust me? Not even a little?"  
  
"Not in the slightest," she said. "I can't sort you out....but maybe you can help me.....why did you come? Why didn't they send Sydney?"  
  
Sark nodded, ready to answer her questions. "Because I knew the Alis-- Doren's operation centre. I was one of the select few to know how to get in and out without being seen. I told Sydney that if anyone else came along, it would be too difficult having to make through the lethal response security system Doren had set up with people who didn't know it. Sydney persuaded the CIA to let me go alone. Naturally, there were agents watching around the perimeter of the club and house and on satellite, ready to nail me if I tried anything."  
  
"Wow....I can't believe the CIA let you go....just to retrieve an agent. They're usually very rules-rigid.  
  
"Well, Sydney was extremely convincing apparently. She told me she was *very* adamant!" Sark explained, his voice light.  
  
Anna laughed. "I can believe that!"  
  
"Lots of people care about you, Anna. And they would've done anything to make sure that you were back safe," Sark added, his blue eyes looking out the window.  
  
"Lots of people...," she repeated, her voice trailing off. She smiled at him, standing up to head to the washroom. He grabbed her hand, still not looking into her eyes.  
  
"I did not see that man behind me," he shook his head, paused for a moment. "You saved my life....and for that I am grateful." He still held onto her hand, their touching skin feeling at home with eachother. Finally, his blue eyes lifted to meet hers and for a few seconds they just looked at eachother, not needing to say anything.  
  
Anna broke away first, feeling conflicted and awkward. "Well, don't think I like you now or anything!" she tried to joke.  
  
"Same for me!" he stated, watching her retreat to the back of the plane.  
  
Now separated, both thought about everything that had happened and realized how complicated their 'relationship' had now become. A life for a life. 


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Hey everyone who's reading, thanks a lot! I hope you all are liking my story and your feedback is greatly appreciated. The more reviews I get, the more I want to write...well that and I have all this time since I'm off from school for reading week. I know this chapter isn't the best but I had a bit of writer's block so I hope its ok....thanks!  
  
Anna pulled into the driveway, her mind racing as she climbed out of the car and into the house. "Hey," Sydney greeted her, obviously about to go for a run.  
  
"Hi....is Francie here?" Anna asked, her voice rushed.  
  
Sydney scanned Anna's flushed face questioningly. "No...she had problems at the restaurant. Why, what's up?"  
  
Anna threw her bag on the couch, running her hands through her hair. "No one consulted me that Sark was moved."  
  
Sydney shrugged. "Well, I mean....you....we're just agents. We don't really get informed of high-level decisions 100% of the time."  
  
"Right. But you knew. Your dad and Dixon knew. Why wasn't I told?" Anna interrogated, not buying Sydney's simple response.  
  
Sydney sighed and sat down on the couch, indicating Anna to join her. "Listen, after his good work in Zurich, as well as all the other missions, Kendall agreed to let him live outside of Langley--"  
  
Anna's eyes flashed. "I may have only known Kendall for a few months, but I've been around long enough to know that he would NEVER agree to that."  
  
Sydney nodded in agreement. "And you're right, he didn't. But Sark said that unless he was moved from his cell he wouldn't be part of the mission to rescue you in Zurich. And he also threatened to stop cooperating, so Kendall gave in. So he's been moved to a safe-house where he is being watched 24/7, basically living under the illusion of freedom."  
  
"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard of. Why is Kendall letting his guard down? We still don't know what Sark is up to. Trusting him....that's a mistake," Anna replied furiously, shocked at what Sydney had said.  
  
Sydney held up her hands as a peace gesture. "Hey, hey, I'm with you. He should not be trusted under any circumstances.....but Kendall only sees that Sark has done good work and...Kendall seems to think that you trust him."  
  
"I don't trust him."  
  
Sydney closed her eyes, looking conflicted and Anna waited for what was next. "Syd, what is it?"  
  
"Anna, there's something else. There's been a question of your professionality in dealing with Sark--"  
  
"My what?" Anna's face grew more flushed. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"It just....sometimes, it looks like you're getting too close to him.....like you're friends....or you care about him," Sydney replied slowly, fearing her friend's reaction.  
  
"What, like you and Vaughn? You are a fine example of getting too close!" Anna retorted.  
  
"That's different! How can you even compare the two situations? Vaughn wasn't working under Sloane. He never tried to kill me! There's the difference, Anna!"  
  
Anna threw up her hands in defeat. "I don't understand this! I didn't even want to deal with Sark in the first place....and now that we're finally getting somewhere thanks to his information, I'm getting ripped apart for....for nothing! There is nothing going on. I don't like him...I don't even trust him. But I accomodate him and I do and say what I need to get him to talk. You're the one who told me to use him for everything he had!" she exclaimed bitterly.  
  
"I know! I know! But I also know that Sark....it's what he does--he's very suave, persuasive. He could be manipulating you."  
  
"You don't think I know that? I'm not a second-rate agent, Syd. We trained together! So don't you even doubt me, not for one second. I know what I'm doing!" Anna stalked out the living room, and Sydney cringed as Anna's bedroom door slammed shut.  
  
Anna paced her room, her mind overwhelmed with what had been said during her talk with Sydney. It's not true, she thought, I am not getting too close to him. She chewed her lower lip as Sydney's voice rang through her head and a part of her realized that maybe what Sydney was saying was right.  
  
Since he had saved her life twice, she'd let her guard down. It wasn't deliberate, it had just happened. Anna could feel herself giving way, her distrust and hate of Sark was slowly eroding into something else. Something that she didn't and couldn't confront. It wasn't like she loved him or anything. Hell, she still didn't even really like him. But Anna couldn't deny that there was still some sort of energy, a sexual attraction, between them. The banter. The insults. It all added up to chemistry.  
  
But it wasn't like Anna would ever act on that; she was too professional and she hadn't forgotten who Julian Sark was, a thief, a murderer....an enemy. But Anna knew what she had to do and nothing was going to stand in her way.  
  
**************  
  
Anna walked through the hallway, past the kitchen and living room, not pausing to take a look at the incredible view of the ocean. She kept walking briskly, into the master bedroom, without knocking, where Sark was half-dressed, obviously fresh from a shower.  
  
He looked up at, no trace of surprise in his eyes. "The CIA doesn't have to knock, apparently."  
  
"It's bad enough they've given you this much lee-way. Expect none from me," Anna answered, her voice like ice.  
  
Sark's eyebrows shot up. "Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"  
  
"Where I wake up is not your concern." She opened her briefcase, handing him two crisp pieces of paper. "We leave in an hour."  
  
He held up two button down shirts, one black and one deep blue. "Which one says 'I'm not with the CIA'?"  
  
Anna pursed her lips, her reply cold, "Well, I prefer the black. Wear the blue." With that, she headed out the door.  
  
Sark hovered at the doorway, watching her leave his new home. "It's all my privilege," he said sarcastically to himself.  
  
He headed back into the bathroom, glancing at his reflection in the mirror and trying to sort out Anna's bizarre behaviour. Last time Sark had seen her, she'd been fine; well whatever fine was was anyone's game....but her manner had been pleasant and almost friendly. Now she was acting distant and cold and he couldn't figure out why.  
  
He shook his head, realizing that he needed to focus his efforts on this next operation. Sark had set up a meeting with one of the heads of the Covenant, as that organization did not know that he was in CIA custody. Presumably, only Alison Doren and Sloane knew that he had been captured by the CIA and Sark was hoping that Covenant had remained uninformed because if they were aware that his loyalties had switched, they wouldn't hesitate to blow his head off.  
  
Sark and Anna were going to France for two things. First, the CIA hoped to gain insight and information on the Covenant through Sark's meeting. Then, Anna was assigned to getting the fingerprints of the man with whom Sark was meeting, so that they'd be able to unlock some sort of system at a later date. How she was going to do that without being obvious and getting them both killed, Sark had no idea. And he hated not being in control.  
  
**************  
  
Sark glanced at Anna from the corner of his eye, watching her scan the mission file quickly. Her eyes lifted and caught his accusingly. "What?" she demanded.  
  
"Nothing....but I know that this bar is informal, but don't you think that's pushing it?" Sark suggested, motioning at Anna's plain long-sleeve shirt, sports pants and hair piled under a paper-boy cap.  
  
"Since when are you the fashion police," she commented, tossing the file at him "Review it."  
  
Sark threw a fake grin her way. "Thanks, boss, but I already did that. Seriously, what is wrong with you?"  
  
Anna ignored his question and continued to make sure they had everything they needed before entering the club.  
  
Sark moved to stand in front of Anna, so that she would have to acknowledge him. "These fingerprints; I was thinking that once my meeting is finished, I could restrain the man, and you can grab him for the prints."  
  
"No, I've got it covered," Anna said simply, offering no further explanation.  
  
But he didn't stop. "Ok, listen, if we're going to be working together, you must—"  
  
She spun around and her forceful eyes froze his words. "First of all, we don't work together." Anna walked towards him, forcing him to move back against the wall. "You work for me."  
  
Sark tilted his head, smiling playfully, knowing perfectly well that Anna was not in the mood for bantering. But he did it anyway. "I like forceful, but you're coming on a bit too strong, Anna."  
  
"Cut the crap. Let's do this." She stopped, pressing her body against his, her lips close to his ear. "And if you think about screwing me over, don't. Because I have no qualms about making you pay," she whispered, her voice tinged with allure. Anna backed away from him, getting ready to leave the room and start the mission. Anna pulled off her long-sleeve shirt and tore off her snap pants hurriedly, exposing a short, sky-blue dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She also got rid of her hat, her lustrous hair cascading down her back. Sark watched her, enticed by her movements.  
  
"Could you?" her soft voice interrupted his thoughts and Sark saw that she was holding out a necklace expectantly. She piled her long hair to one side, the back of her neck nakedly exposed to his touch.  
  
Sark's hands seemed to shake slightly as he clasped together the silvery necklace around her smooth neck. Her sent wafted around him; a mixture of vanilla and strawberries and for a moment he completely forgot where he was, thinking he was just in the presence of a beautiful woman, not with a hardened agent of the CIA. Sark tried to shake those thoughts mentally, remembering that this was a woman who wanted nothing more than to see him dead, or at least that's how she had been acting for the past week.  
  
Sark left the room first, entering the club coolly, and headed to the bar for a drink. He had 15 minutes before his meeting with the mystery leader of the Covenant. Sark kept his eyes focused on the doorway, waiting for Anna's entrance and she didn't disappoint. She entered and walked through the club as an entirely different person, looking free-spirited, fun, and mysterious. Men turned from their own dates and looked up as she strode past, giving her an inviting look. Sark felt something in his chest constrict and he downed his drink, his eyes not leaving Anna for a second. Sark jumped anxiously off the bar stool when he saw a man pull Anna onto the dance floor, expecting to see Anna shrug him off. But she didn't. What she did do was pull the man close and intertwine their bodies sensually. As she danced, the man's hand firmly implanted on her waist from behind, Sark swore she directed a glance right at him. He finished his second drink, rubbing his hands over his face and avoiding looking at Anna. What she did was her business.  
  
Sark headed into one of the swanky back rooms of the clubs and was welcomed by a brusque Spanish man by the name of Pedro Llamas.  
  
"You must be Mr. Sark," Llamas inferred, his voice thick with an accent.  
  
"Yes....and you are the head of the Covenant, I presume?" Sark settled in a chair across from Llamas, his hands folded together.  
  
Llamas' laugh was low and harsh. "Ah, no, a man can only dream. Unfortunately for both you and me, I'm just the man behind the man."  
  
Sark hid his confusion. "I was supposed to meeting with the head of the Covenant," he said calmly.  
  
Llamas lit a cigarette, offering the package to Sark, who politely declined. "Good choice. These things can be addictive. Like women, huh?" Llamas laughed again, obviously in no hurry to get down to business.  
  
Sark leaned forward, growing frustrated. "Listen, I'm interested in learning more about the Covenant's organization, to see if it might be something....that could ascertain...my own interests. First off, I'd like to know who you work for; who is at the forefront of your organization."  
  
Llamas grinned, his teeth slightly yellowed from tobacco use. "Eager, are we? Tell me first, who is it that you work for? You're a bit young to be into all of this, are you not?"  
  
Sark remained unflinching and unresponsive. "My interest, intelligence, and abilities make my age a meaningless consideration. As for whom I am employed by....I'm in charge of myself, you see!" He lied effortlessly, feeling comforted by the fact that the the ability to lie had not been lost to him.  
  
Llamas smiled coldly. "You're an arrogant one. But still, you interest me. I will tell you about the Covenant....as we can always use fresh....blood, shall we say!"  
  
Sark arched his eyebrows, all his energy focused on being attentive. Llamas moved forward, exhaling loudly. "The Organization is one that seeks to dethrone the CIA...naturally, an interest I'm sure someone such as yourself shares—," He paused, waiting for Sark's indication of agreement. "What we're seeking to do is infiltrate the CIA with an imposter agent. A dangerous job, yes, but impossible, no. In fact, we have one in there already, not an agent or anything. You see, that's our goal. We'd like to have an informant working with some of the top people in the CIA, agents, officers, whatever. We want a saboteur. We have a number of prospects in the recruit program right now, but that would take too long for them to infiltrate the agency. We're looking for someone to feign allegiance to the CIA, perhaps by turning themselves in?" Llamas finished, his implications clear.  
  
Sark paused, considering his answer carefully and opened his mouth to speak but saw Llamas' eyes grow distant, looking beyond him. Sark turned around, eager to see what the distraction was, and saw it was none other than his partner in crime. Agent Anna Parker. She was strutting suggestively towards them, her dress clinging to her toned curves in all the right places. "Can I speak to the manager of this place for a moment, please?"  
  
Llamas was entirely enraptured by Anna, watching her intently as she ran her hands down her body, smoothing out her dress. "Mr. Sark, naturally, you will excuse me, as customers come first."  
  
Sark stood up reluctantly but was interrupted by Anna's voice, dripping with sensuality. As she approached the two men, she paused at Sark, running her fingers along the collar of his shirt and neck. "There's no need for anyone to leave. I like an audience," she breathed, sitting on the leather couch and crossing her legs and indicating that Sark should sit back down.  
  
Llamas hovered over her, one of his hands freely roaming her bare leg. "I'm the owner, Ms....?"  
  
Anna smiled, showing a set of impeccably white, sparkling teeth. "Isabella Guigné," she replied, shooting a knowing glance at Sark.  
  
Llamas' shiny face was gleaming as he looked Anna up and down hungrily. "Ms.Guigné, feel free to express your displeasure, or pleasure for that matter....freely."  
  
Sark's fingers touched his mouth, his mind screaming that he wanted to kill this man. He was slimy and Sark definitely didn't like the way he was looking at Anna like she was something he could devour.  
  
Anna patted Llamas' knee, lingering for a suggestive moment too long. She moved in closer, her mouth whispering into his ear, just as she had done with Sark earlier. Sark could feel his hands mold into tight fists and he tried to control his disgust at Llamas. He didn't understand why he was getting so angry. He knew Anna was just acting and trying to get those fingerprints they needed. Still, it irked him either way and if she was just acting, why did he still care?  
  
Sark watching in mounting frustration as Llamas tilted his head, kissing Anna's neck, his hands still grazing her warm, soft skin. What was even worse is that Anna didn't even seem to mind what she, and Llamas, was doing for that matter. Sark sat up straighter in his seat as he listened to Anna giggle as she guided his hands into hers, Llamas' other hand reaching up into her short dress.  
  
That was it. Sark was just about to jump up and pull Llamas off Anna, when he heard Llamas cry out painfully. Anna extricated herself from Llamas' hands, kicking him hard in the chest. "You sleaze!" She gave herself a shake to rid herself of his touch.  
  
Sark looked at Anna, his eyes wide and appreciative. "Did you get it?" he asked hurriedly, checking the door for security guards. "That was some show, Ms. Guigné," he complimented, emphasizing her false identity.  
  
Anna glanced at Sark coyly. "Isabella always seems to work like a charm."  
  
"I think Anna Parker works just fine as well."  
  
Before Anna could answer him, Llamas's eyes popped open and he lunged for Anna's arm. "You little bitch, you're not going anywhere!"  
  
Sark jumped onto the couch, shoving his elbow in Llamas's face, knocking him out. "That's no way to treat a lady," he said, breathing heavily.  
  
Anna nodded a thank you at him, peeling off the copy of Llamas' fingerprints and placing them carefully in a plastic bag. "Let's go!" They sped from the run, checking corners carefully and trying to blend with the crowd as they headed back to the dancefloor, which was packed with girating bodies.  
  
"There's no way we can make it out of here right now! They'll hunt us down in seconds. We need to get with the crowd," Anna yelled over the extremely loud music. She took everything out of her purse, pulling Sark close to her and stuffing his jacket pockets. She ran to the doorway of the club and casually dropped her purse. That way, it would look like she had already left the club. She hurried back to where Sark was standing, off to the side of the dance floor. Anna wound her hair in a high-ponytail, looking anxiously around her, seeing couples dancing and making out around her. She cringed and ducked down, seeing two guards looking over the crowd. "They're looking!"  
  
Sark glanced around nonchalantly, seeing the guards Anna had pointed. He guided her quickly to the wall, shielding her body with his taller one and instaneously pressed his lips against hers heatedly, one hand grasping her waist tightly while the other held her face. Her surprised lips kissed him back ferociously, her body pressed tightly against his as her hands skimmed the back of his neck.  
  
Guards? 


	12. Chapter 12

His hands covered the sides of her slender neck, thumbs resting lightly above her collar bone. Her arms wound around his neck, one of her soft hands pressing him to her. Their lips continued to mesh together, becoming more and more intense. As he moved his hands to her soft, shiny hair, he felt her draw back.  
  
Sark watched as her eyes searched wildly, her lips swollen and her skin flushed from their kiss. He caught his breath, realizing he was going to have to account for what had just happened, well aware of the fact that she was probably going to ream him out. On the other hand, she didn't pull away instantaneously and she had been returning his kiss with equal fervor. "Listen, I had to—"  
  
His explanation was cut off as Anna grabbed his collar, bringing her lips to his once again. His hands grinded against her hips, her own hands roaming over his short hair. The kiss heated up quickly, almost as though there was a certain desperate urgency to it. And then some. There was also the red-hot passion enwrapped in the kiss, almost as though they were two lovers coming together for the first time after much strife and angst.  
  
Anna pushed him away with her hands again, her back against the wall. Her breathing was fragmented and her eyes darted past him, still betraying a hint of the fieriness of their kiss. "The guards....came back."  
  
Sark ran his hands over his hair and face, trying to cool down from the sheer heat of the passing moment. "Guards?" he asked distractedly, realizing that far from being disgruntled with what had just happened, he'd like to have been able to continue it....to touch her, to feel her....to kiss her. He mentally tried to shake those thoughts from his mind, shocked and mildly disgusted at his lack of inhibition.  
  
"Well, that's why you...ugh....that's why we just did what we did, right?" Anna inferred, trying to sooth her hypersensitive nerves. Her whole body was still reeling from his mouth, his hands, the whole thing! She tried to shield her frazzled expression, managing to glare steely at him.  
  
Sark recovered quickly. "Yes, absolutely. We blended with the crowd. I think we can make our exit now," he added, his accent sounding a little shaky to him.  
  
********  
  
Anna stared down at the words but they blurred before her eyes. She couldn't think straight. The kiss kept endlessly playing in her mind and she could practically feel the pressure of his hands touching her. Anna slammed the folder shut, frustrated. It nearly sickened her that the only interaction she'd had with a man in the months had to be with the one guy who could not be any worse to be with. Well, aside from it being a crime, Sark lacked morals and had done some truly horrible things. He'd coldly killed more than a few CIA agents and she remembered all too vividly his attempt to kill her. Sark couldn't be trusted. He was a horrible person...but, she thought as she snuck a glance at his face, intently staring out the window, he wasn't bad looking. In fact, he was actually pretty cute, with defined bones and smooth skin and bright blue, intense eyes that just... "Christ!" Anna said under her breath to her self. She just couldn't stop.  
  
"Pardon me?" Sark looked up, his expression amused. He tucked his chin into his hand, looking at her expectantly.  
  
Anna tried her best to look nonchalant. "Nothing...I was just reading the...ugh...the..." Great, cool, Anna, real cool.  
  
"Files," he finished for her, taking them from her hand, his lips still curled in a smile. "You know, you might find it more beneficial if you read it right-side up," he commented calmly, putting the folder, the right way now, back in her hands.  
  
Anna hid her mortification quickly, inwardly wondering how long she had been reading it upside-down. "As much as I'd love to take literacy tips from you...shut up!" Anna jumped up haughtily, her skin flushed pink.  
  
"All this anger, where does it stem from?"  
  
"It's not anger, it's hatred," she replied sweetly, her lips stretched in a wide, fake smile.  
  
Sark looked up at her, his blue eyes gleaming. "You're no picnic, either, do you know that?  
  
"I didn't realize that I was—," Anna was cut off as the plane lurched backwards and she stumbled forwards, falling into Sark's lap. She closed her eyes, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. She felt his arms around her waist tighten, protecting her. When Anna opened her eyes again, he was looking at her intensely, his eyes unreadable.  
  
"You alright?" he asked, his voice low and his eyes unmoving from her face.  
  
Anna swallowed awkwardly, at the same time feeling uncomfortable under his stare and distracted by the fact that their faces were just inches apart. "I think I'm ok..." she whispered.  
  
"Probably just turbulence," he said huskily, his fingers rubbing circles on her waist.  
  
"Turbulence..."  
  
He reached to brush a stray hair from her face, drawing their faces closer together.  
  
"Sorry, about that back there. Hit a rough patch of air but it should be smooth from here on out," a loud, clear voice explained over the intercom system on the plane.  
  
The moment was broken and Anna leapt away from him, her cheeks even more red. She moved quickly away from him, nearly running to the bathroom. Anna was angry at herself for almost giving in, for almost forgetting who she was...and who he was. As she opened the bathroom door, she took one last glance at Sark, wondering what was going on inside his head. What was he thinking?  
  
Beautiful disaster. That's how Sark saw Anna. She was this beautiful creature who drew her towards him with her wit and fire. But in the same way, to have the feelings he had when he was within feet of her was unbearable. Though he hated to admit, he was attracted to her. But, he reasoned, I am just a man. Maybe he was just a guy attracted to a girl. Maybe it was as simple as that.  
  
But maybe it wasn't. His attraction to and interest in Anna was starting to overcome him. It wasn't like he loved her. Well, he didn't even really like her. But she had somehow maneuvered her way into his thoughts and sometimes he became so distracted that he lost his sharpness. And that was disastrous. He had to be clear and detached. Basically, Sark had to just be away from her.  
  
******  
  
"I want someone else."  
  
Anna looked up, her expression smiling at him, having no idea what he was talking about. "Ok, that's...great. You do that." She returned to her work, shaking her head at his rumblings.  
  
"This isn't working," he tried again.  
  
Anna's eyes held that look that one gives to someone they think is completely insane. "Ok, well....it happens to all men at some point...though I'm not all that surprised with you—"  
  
"No, Anna, listen...," Sark tried to get her attention, grabbing her papers away from her and putting them on the seat behind him.  
  
"Oh, what? Could you articulate this time, pleeease!" she said, exasperation entering her voice.  
  
"When we get back to Langley, I'm asking for someone else. A different CIA operative," he said bluntly, lifting his eyes up to see her face.  
  
Anna's brown eyes sparkled with confusion as she tried to respond to his words. "Someone else?"  
  
"I just don't believe that this partnership is working out. With someone else perhaps more would be achieved," Sark said, trying to not let any trace of emotion shine through his blank expression. He could see the hurt in her eyes.  
  
Anna exhaled deeply, sitting back in her chair. "Right....because successful missions obviously indicate a lack of achievement," she answered, a hint of anger lacing her voice.  
  
"Listen, it's nothing personal—,"  
  
Anna put up her hand to stop him. "No, you know what, it's up to you. But just remember, you asked for me. So good luck and good riddance," she stated briskly. She rose from her seat and headed to the back of the plane, feeling her hands shake slightly.  
  
****** A few weeks later ******  
  
Anna tested her tea to see if it was still too hot, blowing on it lightly. She looked up at Francie sitting across from her, flipping through the mail. Anna stared down at her plain mug again, her hands knotting together. Again, she snuck a glance at Francie.  
  
Francie got her, throwing her mail down on the smooth, clean table. "Ok, girl, what?  
  
"What?" Anna repeated blankly.  
  
Francie laughed. "Seriously, you've been looking at me like you have something to say for the past 15 minutes."  
  
"I have not! I'm just....taking in my surroundings," scoffed Anna, taking a sip of her peppermint tea.  
  
"Because Steve the delivery guy is oh so hot!" Francie whispered conspiratorially, making sure Steve, a tall red-headed gangly creature with a nose five times too large for his face didn't hear.  
  
Anna dissolved into giggles. "Ok, so there's kind of this guy...," she blurted out quickly.  
  
"Whoa, what? Who, when, where? HOW?" Francie demanded, getting excited for her friend. She leaned forward expectantly.  
  
"Ok, but you can't tell Sydney about this....he's kind of a guy at work and you know how people disapprove of interoffice dating..."  
  
"But Sydney's dating Michael. They work together."  
  
Anna smiled, trying to figure out how to choose her words. "Right...but see this guy is pretty....high level...one that's definitely off-limits. But there's another reason, Syd really doesn't like him and I'd kind of rather keep it between you and me. But nothing's going to come of it anyway so it doesn't matter."  
  
"Why? Tell me about him? Is he cute?" Francie questioned, happy on the inside that Anna was finally getting back out into the world of love.  
  
Anna suddenly felt very shy and like she was 12 years old. "Well, he's smart...most of the time, and he can be so funny, and he definitely knows how to make me crazy! Oh, and he's so cute," Anna summarized quickly. She actually kind of felt semi-sick talking about Sark in such nice ways. "Hot- cute though, not goofy cute with the great personality," she added, smiling timidly.  
  
Francie grinned knowingly but her expression quickly went serious again. "So has anything happened between you two?"  
  
Anna's mind flashed back to their kiss(es) 3 weeks ago and she could feel her cheeks grow warm, unable to stop them.  
  
"Oh, so there has! Look at you, going all red. Spill it!"  
  
"Ok! Ok! So remember that business trip I went on a few weeks ago—,"  
  
Francie feigned innocence. "Oh wait, which trip was that again? Paris? London?"  
  
Anna looked at her friend pointedly. "Fran—,"  
  
Francie waved her hand in dismissal. "I know, I know! Your job is important, blah blah blah. So get back to the dirt!"  
  
Anna bit her lip, smiling down into her cup. "We may have....well, I mean, there may have been a kiss....or two."  
  
Francie knocked her hands on the table approvingly. "Yay! This is great!"  
  
"Except not so great. All those 'good' things I said, well, there are SO many more bad ones. He's so cocky. And such a smart-ass. He drives me insane! I mean like literally, insane. And sometimes, I totally want to kill him sometimes. Does he have to be so snide? And such a jerk!" Anna ranted, growing more and more emphatic.  
  
Francie shook her head in response, coming to a realization about her friend. "You've got it bad!"  
  
Anna looked away, at the ceiling, at her mug, anywhere but at Francie. "No seriously! He's a jerk. Besides, nothing else can come of it. Ever. Case closed." Her expression turned solemn and she stood up to leave.  
  
Francie grabbed her arm. "Anna, think positive! This is the first time I've seen you get all crushed out on a guy, in a long time. It's been years since you've actually cared for someone. More than just a casual thing. Not since Sam," Francie said softly.  
  
Anna felt a wave of guilt sweep over her. How could ever possibly care for Sark in the same way as she had Sam? It just wasn't possible; they were on completely different sides of the spectrum. "It's just not possible. Some things just can't happen." She put her hand on top of Francie's warmly. "I've got to get going. You won't tell, right?"  
  
Francie nodded in agreement, her brows furrowed together in concern. "Anna-- ."  
  
Anna tried to smile brightly as she pulled the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. "Fran, don't worry, ok? I'm totally fine! See you tonight."  
  
But she wasn't fine, she realized, stepping into the bright sunlight. Not at all. But she didn't even know why she cared. Her and Sark not working together was for the best. For once, that arrogant cocky ass was right, she thought somewhat sadly.  
  
*******  
  
"Hi." Sark came up behind Anna as she stood at her desk, clearly looking for something among the masses of paper, folders, disks and cds that littered her workspace. He wore a dark suit, his hands stuffed into its pockets, as he waited for her response, expecting it to be chilly, judging from the way she had noted his presence as though he were a mere fly on the wall.  
  
"Hello. Mission a success?" she asked, looking uninterested in the response. She brushed past him, moving around to the other side of her desk, still rifling.  
  
Sark spun around to follow her. "Went brilliantly, thanks for asking."  
  
Anna avoided his eyes intentionally, flipping through papers as she scanned them. "How's working with Weiss? Are you achieving all you wanted?" she asked, trying to sound casual but a trace of bitterness had entered her voice.  
  
"So far successful. I don't think he approves of me. He definitely doesn't like me."  
  
She finally shot a quick glance at him. "Hard to see...," she muttered coldly.  
  
Sark felt slightly stung, though he knew this was an improvement from her general avoidance of him the past couple of weeks. "Anna, about what happened....I was hoping we could be professional about this." He knew the second he said it, she'd make him regret it.  
  
Anna turned to face him, their bodies close. "We don't work together anymore, remember? So I'm no longer getting paid to be semi-nice to you." She slapped a file folder to his chest before striding off towards the debrief room, her head high.  
  
"That went well," he mumbled quietly under his breath, returning to his own desk. He sat in his chair for a few minutes, feeling...dejected? He'd lied to her. Working with Weiss wasn't great. It was damn boring. At least when he had been partnered with Anna, she had sparred with him, intrigued him. The past weeks at the CIA had been the most monotonous, routine time of his life and he could barely wait to escape from right when he arrived in the morning. At least Anna had made the missions interesting. And frustrating.  
  
It was obvious at times that she detested him, yet at others, she seemed tolerant of him. And then there were the times when it seemed like Anna really connected to him. Sark, most of all, missed the inconsistency. He knew it was bizarre. Consistency was supposed to be this amazing thing. But one of the reasons he was so drawn to Anna was because he truly had no idea what she was thinking from one moment to the next and Sark never had any idea what she was going to do. She was unexpected.  
  
Sark knew what he was doing would ultimately save them both from so much drama and so many problems. But he hated seeing the hate in her eyes when she looked at him because it wasn't entirely mutual anymore. Yes, she drove him insane and sometimes he definitely didn't like her, but he didn't hate her. Not even a little. Not even at all.  
  
********  
  
"Parker, medical services need to see you as soon as possible," Kendall stated, matter-of-factly.  
  
"What? Why?" demanded Anna.  
  
Kendall looked tiredly at her. "If I knew why, I'd tell you. Go."  
  
She headed down to the basement floor, where the labs were, going over to the sign in desk. "Hi, I'm Anna—,"  
  
"Parker, yes, we've been waiting for you. Come right this way," a middle- aged man interrupted, his body cloaked in a white coat.  
  
"Wait, I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on!"  
  
"I'm Dr. Hayward and I just need to run a few tests," he summed up quickly, obviously anxious to get going.  
  
Anna balked, drawing away from the arm the doctor had extended to her. "Tests? For what? Tell me what the hell is going on here!"  
  
Dr. Hayward took a deep breath before looking her straight into the eyes. "Fine. A whileback, you infiltrated a facility headed by Alison Doren, a member of the Covenant. It's now known that the basement floor was devoted to medical testing. Do you remember being exposed to any toxins, chemicals, anything like that?"  
  
Anna racked her mind. "Well, I don't think so. I mean, when the building was on fire, there was this chemical smell and it was pretty strong....but that's about it. Why? What's happening?"  
  
"I can't disclose that information," Dr. Hayward said, his voice stern.  
  
"You will tell me, or I'll refuse to submit myself for testing," Anna returned, just as strongly.  
  
The exhausted doctor realized how serious she was and pulled her off to the side of the room. "Last week, a CIA team invaded the new facility, as you know the old one was burned down—,"  
  
"Yeah, almost with me in it!"  
  
"Yes, well, within the new facility, there were a number of patients with mysterious symptoms...bleeding from many orifices of the body, inflamed lungs, rashes—basically they were completely dehabilitated."  
  
Anna looked away horrified, starting to realize what the Doctor was saying. "What caused it?" she asked shakily.  
  
"Signs are pointing to the release of the chemical you detected in the building. We're not positive yet and we'd like to run some tests on you to detect for any symptoms or heightened levels of susceptibility to infection," Doctor Hayward explained, guiding Anna to a quarantined cell, much like Sark's old cell.  
  
"Ugh, yes—do what you need. But I'd like to be kept informed," she said unevenly.  
  
And there he was. Sark sat on one of the two beds, his shirtsleeves rolled up; he looked up as he saw Anna and Doctor Hayward approach, looking somber.  
  
"You've got to be kidding me!" Anna exclaimed, partially in fury, partially in disbelief.  
  
"Well, Mr. Sark was exposed to the chemical, although for a much shorter period than you so we're testing him as well. We also like to keep you two separated from our other patients." The doctor looked at Anna's semi- disgusted expression. "That's not going to be a problem, is it, Agent Parker?"  
  
Anna tried to compose herself, now torn between worry and horror. "It's no problem." Not for you, she added silently.  
  
She entered the cell, sitting opposite Sark, her head in her hands. They just sat there, all the unspoken words dancing in the air. But they didn't need to speak. They just knew. 


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry for the time delay. This chapter was SO hard to write. And....I'd just like to say thank you "The Counteragent" from season 2!!!!  
  
"You know, it's a good thing tapping never gets old!" Anna said sarcastically, her eyes toward the ceiling as she lay flat on the white- outfitted cot.  
  
Sark paused his drummings against the wall, only to tap harder a second later. The corners of his mouth lifted up in a half smirk as he watched Anna grow increasingly more annoyed.  
  
She sat up suddenly, her mouth practically breathing fire. "Ok, so what's the deal here? Is this some kamikaze mission? Because seriously, I'm feeling a little murderous."  
  
Sark met her eyes willfully, not blinking. "Maybe if you weren't so bothered by every little thing....a little high maintenance, aren't we?" He brought his knees up onto the bed, his back pressed against the brick wall as he tried to get comfortable, realizing they'd already been here for 2 hours and it would likely be much longer before they were let out.  
  
"Me, high maintenance?! You're the one—," she broke off, shaking her head angrily. "Maybe we should just not speak."  
  
Sark's eyes widened in faux-surprise, a smile playing nicely on his lips. "This is what it took for you to finally stop talking!"  
  
Anna shot him a look of pure malice, telling herself not to respond, not to lower herself to his level. She sat silently, for a moment, feeling the past few weeks boil up inside of her. She couldn't take it anymore! "I don't get you at all....one moment, you're against the CIA, shooting at me and the next you pretend to be this bad guy-turned-good, acting somewhat pleasantly. And you save my life a few times and think you're God's gift to the agency. Then, after a successful mission, you decide, hey, let's drop her and work with Weiss?! What is that?" Anna blurted out, flinging her hands up for emphasis and feeling everything was finally coming to the surface. "What is actually going on inside that distorted head of yours? Who the hell are you?"  
  
But she didn't actually say that; Anna screamed it on the inside, her eyes daring to sneak a look at his calm, relaxed face. She exhaled loudly, rolling over to face the wall and forcefully closing her eyes. Anna tried to picture her father's face; the easy laugh-lines around his mouth and his crinkly hazel eyes. He would know what to do in a situation like this, he always knew what to do. Her father had that special human talent to be generous, sweet, firm, and determined all at the same time. When Anna had been sick, he would always sit beside her after making her a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, holding her hand and reading special "dad" versions of fairy tales to her.  
  
But the picture was fuzzy. She was forgetting the familiar curve of his smile and his strong jawline. As the years past, Anna felt like she was losing his memory. Sure, she had pictures, but the important things were fading from her every day; his deep, relaxed voice, and his slight woodsy, fresh scent. Anna felt a dampness on her cheek and she lifted her hand to her smooth skin, realizing she was crying. A sudden feeling of loneliness passed over her as she became aware of her true independence in the world. She had amazing friends, that was true, but she didn't have someone that just knew her without having to say anything or unconditional, ever-lasting love. She didn't have a family.  
  
"Anna?" Sark's voice beckoned her back to the dim cell and her father's image slipped away from her mind. "What are you thinking?"  
  
She wiped the last of her tears from her eyes, clearing her voice as she tried to hide any signs of emotion. "What, other than they ways I'd like to get rid of you?" she replied snidely, her back still to him.  
  
Sark's gaze wandered over the bare expanse of skin visible from where Anna's long-sleeved shirt had ridden up from her simple black pants. The smooth serenity of her skin was screaming to be touched and Sark had to fight back every natural impulse in his body to keep from going over to her. "You know, you used to like me before all of this happened."  
  
Anna sat back up, finally facing him, her eyes carrying traces of mockery. "No, I tolerated you. Big difference."  
  
He didn't answer, deciding not to engage her in an hostile argument that would make their time caged in this cell even more unpleasant. For a few moments, an awkward silence hung in the air, before both Anna and Sark opened their mouths at the same time. Sark held out his arm, indicating that she should go first.  
  
"I was just going to ask you about your family, that's all," Anna said, realizing that she sounded too interested in his personal life. "Well, I mean, to end up like that, you must have had some childhood," she added disdainfully.  
  
Sark hung his head, mentally strategizing his answer. A thousand possibilities and lies whipped through his mind but he wasn't in the mood for a charade. For once, he just wanted to be honest. "Do you remember the day we met?"  
  
"It's not something one forgets," answer Anna, not really directing it at him. "But, ugh, anyway, I do remember...," she trailed off uncertainly, a light rose colour flushing her cheeks.  
  
"Then, you remember, the story I told you about my father, not being the greatest example, the abuse and such?" He summed up quickly, searching her face for understanding.  
  
Anna rolled her dark eyes. "Oh right. The sympathy story to get the girl. Nice move."  
  
"Actually it was true," he stated simply, trying to avoid the rush of thoughts of his father from entering his mind.  
  
Her expression softened a little, though Anna maintained her suspicion. "Listen, if this is just another one of your lies, I could really do without--,"  
  
"No. It's true. What I told you back in that airport was true," he interrupted adamantly.  
  
She saw the truth in his eyes and immediately felt horrible for doubting it. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. I thought it was part of the act..."  
  
Sark's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Oddly enough, some things I say are true."  
  
"That must have been a horrible situation to live in. You must have felt so—,"  
  
"Lonely," they both said at the same time.  
  
Anna half-smiled sadly. "Why...if you don't mind me asking, didn't your mother leave him?" she asked, twisting the corner of the sheets distractedly.  
  
Sark rested his head on the wall, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "I never asked. I suppose because she had no place else to go. She was weak and he knew that. I was weak too—,"  
  
Anna placed the palms of her hands together, her brown eyes trailing his frustration.  
  
Sark shook his head, feeling some of the old feelings of rage bubble within him. "Still, I should've done something. Not like it would have mattered. When he was finished with us, he left. My mother had nothing—that time was like one massive nightmare...," He lost himself in sad, tormenting memories.  
  
"I'm sorry," Anna repeated.  
  
"You're not going to say 'it's not your fault' and tell me there was nothing I could do?" he asked, surprised by her rather calm, unabashed simplicity.  
  
"Nothing I say will change how you feel. You'll always blame yourself, whether I tell you not to or not," she rationalized.  
  
Sark tried not to let her words touch him. She understood. She didn't try and convince him of his innocence, she merely accepted what he had said. "You sound like you've had experience?"  
  
Anna looked down at her hands. "No, nothing like that. But both my parents died when I was fairly young. You don't ever get over that loneliness. It seems to stay with you. Like the blame."  
  
Sark's intense eyes met hers for a moment before she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.  
  
"Say it."  
  
Anna brought her legs up, now sitting cross-legged. "Since we're baring our souls here...how is it that after all you've seen—with your own family and all—that you can hurt people so freely? I've seen your record. And the numbers....are so high...," She stopped, trying to figure out what she was trying to say. "You can take someone's life so easily...you do it so casually, I could never—I mean, these are people, they have names and lives and families. Do you ever think of that, wondering if that man has a 5 year old son waiting for his dad to come so they can play catch?"  
  
Sark had been wondering when this was going to come up. He knew that whatever relationship they had—working, friendship...and so on—would always be complicated by his ability to kill. He tried to choose his words carefully. "I learned a long while ago to separate bodies from people. Bodies are things in the way that must be removed. They have no name, no life and no family."  
  
"But they are people! Human lives. I've read your file and more often than not, those people were innocent—they didn't have to die."  
  
"Anna--," Sark began.  
  
"Wait, don't you ever feel bad? Where is your conscious? Don't you ever feel remorse?"  
  
Sark decided to be honest with her. "No, I suppose not."  
  
Anna exhaled, realizing that no matter how 'connected' she may feel towards him, his lack of morals would always be problematic. "Someday you will. You just won't be able to do it so easily anymore. You just need to face it; have someone take something important from you and then you'll know what a horrible person you've become." Anna flopped back on her bed, exasperated and wondering why she had even bothered in the first place.  
  
Both Anna and Sark just laid quietly, the silence filling the air dauntingly. Sark was beginning to feel very tired, especially with the recollections of the past chasing him.  
  
"Listen, we will never agree. What you do is wrong, even you know that. But I'm sorry about before. And based on that little outburst, I'm willing to admit that I think you made the right choice," Anna broke in.  
  
Sark groaned slightly, slowly arising from his half-asleep stupor. "Did I just hear you say I was right?"  
  
Anna threw a pillow at him, then glanced away thoughtfully, examining the wall just beyond his tired face. "You right? Get real. I was just saying that I agreed with your choice to end our working together. We never get along. I think...maybe, it was a good thing to do. That's all." Anna plastered a small smile on her face, trying to believe what she was saying. "Stop looking at me like that!"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like you are trying to think up some witty response just to argue with me," Anna replied pointedly, her tone light.  
  
He smirked. That was exactly what he had been trying to do. "Since when do we argue?"  
  
"Since when do we not?" she retorted incredulously, tilting her head.  
  
"If anyone starts an argument, it's definitely you," Sark answered, attempting to hide a smile.  
  
Anna swung her legs off the cot and leaned forward, her brown eyes glinting wildly under the overhead light. "Are you joking? You always fight with me over the stupidest things—,"  
  
"Hey, you're the one constantly harping on me!" he jumped in, watching her with complete seriousness despite his playful expression. He forced himself not to notice how stunning she looked when she was frustrated and angry. The way her eyes seemed to brighten and spots of pink flushed her pure skin. Sark couldn't let himself admit that he loved watching her argue; her passion just overwhelmed his senses and he swore he'd never met anyone with more fire.  
  
Anna burst out laughing, her seriousness dissipated. "We're arguing about arguing." His eyes remained trained on her bright smile, as he laughed too. That was it, he thought, the light changed when she was in the room.  
  
Sark suddenly felt very nauseous, his smile fading as he tore his gaze from Anna. He had to remember who she was and more importantly, who he was.  
  
"Are you ok?" beckoned her voice. Anna jumped off her bed, kneeling beside his concernedly as she searched his face for signs. "You don't look so well."  
  
Sark tried to shrug her off, slightly surprised, and pleasantly so, of her worry. "I'm just tired. I just need to lie down," he told her, lying back on the white sheets.  
  
Anna, still worried, placed her hand on his forehead. "Should I call for Dr. Hayward...you're not warm, but still."  
  
"No, really, I'm fine. Just tired." He grabbed Anna's wrist with his hand, drawing her closer to him. Her face betrayed her startled emotions as she looked down at him. "Anna?" he whispered softly.  
  
Anna just watched, feeling slightly frightened about what he had to say. Was it all about to be said?  
  
"Go," he said firmly, lightly letting go of her wrist and closing his eyes.  
  
Anna turned from him, her eyes full of tears she tried to suppress. She lay silently on her bed, questioning what she had really expected...wanted to hear him say. Anna glanced at his immovable form, her eyes, for a second, seeing the file an inch thick that had been dropped on her desk the day she had agreed to work with him. She saw the faces of the CIA agents he had killed and the list of innocent people who had gotten in his way. She saw the long list of anti-U.S. organizations he had links to. She saw the even longer list of crimes he was wanted for. At the very bottom of that list was the name of an agent he had attempted to kill. Anna Parker.  
  
Anna rolled over to face the wall, willing her mind to stop visualizing the malice in Sark's eyes when he had trained that gun on her and fired all those months ago. Slowly, she felt her eyelids grow heavy and eagerly embraced sleep.  
  
Sark listened for her even, soft breathing, opening his eyes when he knew she was asleep. He rubbed his temples, still feeling slightly dizzy. He knew she was becoming personally involved and he sensed how much that scared her. Sark was well aware of that fact that she was more personal, more humane than him. Shockingly enough, that was one of the reasons he was so attracted to her. She was so different, unlike any other woman he'd ever known. Anna almost made him feel a sort of guilt about who he was and what he did. Almost. But Sark had one thing on Anna. He could disengage; never having had strong connections to anyone made it fairly simple to detach from people. Sark was not about to let Anna Parker change him. He didn't need to be saved and certainly not by her.  
  
He glanced over at her sleeping figure, her chest moving up and down rhythmically. Sark watched as she rolled over, facing him now, though still asleep. Her hands were tucked under her pillow, her face innocent and sweet as her hair flowed freely across her shoulders. Suddenly, he didn't feel so tired anymore.  
  
****Morning****  
  
Anna fluttered her eyes, automatically feeling the kinks in her back prick with pain. She licked her lips, fully opening her eyes to see a wide-awake, fresh-looking Sark meeting her gaze. "What time is it?" she asked hoarsely.  
  
"Seven-thirty."  
  
Anna shoved her head rebelliously back into the pillow before turning to look at him once again, running a hand mindlessly through her still-shiny hair. "Jesus. Seven-thirty. Hayward said he'd have our results by this morning, right?"  
  
Sark nodded, silently in agreement. Neither mentioned, though both were thinking about, what happened the night before. "You were talking in your sleep," he said quietly, breaking the quiet.  
  
Anna lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh God, what did I say?" But she was smiling, recalling her dream.  
  
"Something like 'I can't believe we did that'. What was happening?" he asked, returning her grin.  
  
"Oh, it was nothing...," she trailed off, closing her eyes peacefully. For a minute they just laid there, wondering what was running through each other's minds.  
  
"Do you think we're sick?" Anna asked softly, her sleepy brown eyes suddenly vulnerable.  
  
"Ahhh," Sark sighed, running his hands over his face. "I don't know."  
  
Anna rubbed her cheek into the cushiony pillow, feeling incredibly exhausted, despite her sleep. She looked at Sark across the room, both of them lying parallel, their heads on the bright white pillows. She had to do it. "Sark....can I tell you something?"  
  
He sensed the urgency in her voice, realizing what Anna was about to say was not something trivial. He propped his head up on his elbow, smiling for her to continue.  
  
"Everything that has happened....what's happened and, I guess, what hasn't happened—there is something that you need to know. I—for the past—,"  
  
There was a knock on the glass windows and Dr. Hayward flashed them a series of files stamped 'Cleared'. "Both of your test results were fine. Everything seems normal. You're free to go. If you feel anything out of the ordinary, report back here, but other than that you're in the clear."  
  
Anna stood up, feeling flustered. "Are there any known symptoms that we should watch for?"  
  
"Only extreme ones. Coughing up blood seems to be the first indicator. But like I've said, neither of you should worry. All your results are standard and you're in perfect health," Dr. Hayward answered, looked exhausted and hurried.  
  
Anna and Sark both gave their thanks, allowing the doctor to get on with whatever it was he needed. She grabbed her bag, heading to the door but pausing to turn back towards Sark. "Good luck. With Weiss, I mean. I'll...uh...I'll see you around," she finished solidly, her smile small and agreeable.  
  
******  
  
Anna, for the first time in weeks, felt happy. It'd been a week since her forced isolation with Sark and she'd never felt better. She actually found herself singing as she dressed for work after a long, hot shower.  
  
She was glad she hadn't had a chance to finish what she was going to say to Sark. Whatever that might have been, she had no idea. Nor did she want to know. And now she felt free of him, of the conflicting feelings that had kept her up nights. "If I just breathe, let it fill the space between, I'll know everything is alright, breathe, every little piece of me, you'll see, everything is alright, if I just breathe..." sang Anna, but was cut off with a bout of coughing. She and Francie had been at a bar the previous night that was completely filled with cigarette smoke so it was no surprise that her lungs were reacting now. But the coughing didn't end and she grabbed onto the corners of the counter, her head hanging over the sink. Finally, she gave it one last heave, her eyes drifting to the bottom of the sink. It was stained red. Anna eyes widened as she looked in the mirror, seeing a tiny trail of dark blood drift from her mouth. She'd coughed up blood. 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
  
Anna walking slowly, her breathing unnaturally calm considering her raging emotions within. Sark looked conflicted to see her infront of him, his eyes registering shock. He could see her nervousness, her brown eyes refusing to touch his face. They both knew she wasn't supposed to be there. Only a week ago had they mutually agreed not to see each other, not to have any contact with the other. Not to speak.  
  
"The disease we were both tested for....is there an antidote? Where is it?" she asked finally, her face pale and grim.  
  
Sark offered no response and bowed his head, noticing that the light had disappeared from her eyes. For the first time Anna glanced directly at him. "Listen, I know we've agreed to end our working relationship and you don't want to speak with me. And that's fine. Really. But I need to know if there is a cure for the virus. It moves quickly—I don't have much time."  
  
Sark lifted his head, his hand running over his mouth, her words dawning on him, pulling him apart. "You're the one who's sick," he said slowly, feeling suddenly and inexplicably overwhelmed. "That's not possible. We...you were tested repeatedly. Dr. Hayward said we both cleared." It was a struggle for him to keep his voice even and firm, as he forced believe his words. But one look at Anna told him she was not ok.  
  
"I coughed up blood this morning, Sark," Anna answered plainly, smiling sadly. "Well, you might just finally be rid of me."  
  
Sark's head tilted, his expression wincing at her words. "Anna, my God...," He felt lost. For once didn't know what to say. On one hand, he'd made the decision to terminate their partnership and Anna had agreed to that last week. He wanted to be away from her and she wanted the same from him. They needed it. But as he watched her unwillingly, she drew towards him with her desolation. In that instant, he cursed himself, realizing that he had known since the first day he'd seen Anna in the airport and there was no use fighting it. He couldn't stay away. And there was no going back.  
  
******  
  
"It's been a while, Sydney." Sark raised his eyebrows as Sydney Bristow approached the front door.  
  
"Is there a cure?" Sydney looked frazzled as she propped the door open with her leg, her eyes red and puffy from crying.  
  
Sark reached his hands over his head, then leaned his arms against the doorframe and avoiding Sydney's eyes. When he didn't reply, she banged her fist against the frame of the doorway, feeling the reverberations run through her skin. "Damnit. I know you told her nothing so I came here with few expectations—,"  
  
"She collapsed!"  
  
Sydney pursed her lips, focusing on her friend. She had to help Anna. She had to stay professional. "Listen, I know you want nothing to do with Agent Parker. I get that. But there's more to it than just you. And I don't think I have to tell you that some people here will be very unhappy if you choose not to cooperate." Sydney paused, bracing herself for her next attempt as her voice began to break. "Sark, as much as saying this makes me sick...if you care about her at all, in any way, you'll help her. Anna doesn't have much time," She was more or less begging him, her eyes threatening to overflow with tears.  
  
"How long?" Sark asked quickly, trying to appear unaffected.  
  
Sydney looked at him quizzically, clearly desiring to deduce his motives and feelings over this situation. "48 hours."  
  
Sark felt his body inwardly cringe, a sigh escaping his lips. "So, she's..."  
  
"Yes, she's dying. Without the serum, she won't live past two days. So I need to know if you'll help me. Otherwise I go alone," said Sydney determinedly, looking at him squarely.  
  
Sark knew the second he'd seen Sydney that he'd go. The important question was why.  
  
******  
  
"I can't do it, you have to," Sydney said, her voice shaky and full of emotion. She handing him the vial, willing herself not to cry infront of him. "They'll show you to the plane," she added, nodding towards two beefy security officers.  
  
Sark straightened his collar automatically, taking a deep breath before walking through the ominous dark doors. As he approached her bed, a wave of anxiety passed over him. He didn't know what to say to her or even how to react.  
  
Her dark eyes popped open upon hearing footsteps nearing her and her expression melted when she saw it was Sark. Anna tried to lift her body higher onto the bed and he could see the strain in her face, obviously in pain.  
  
"Hey, hey, don't try to move," he said, bent over her.  
  
Her hair framed her ghostly face, her lips brightened against the paleness of her skin. "I must look like a car-wreck."  
  
"You're stunning." *What the hell was that?*, Sark wondered at his immediate, unconscious response.  
  
Anna's lips stretched into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Don't sweet talk your way with me. I could still kick your ass."  
  
Sark laughed genuinely. "All this," he gestured, "and you still want to argue!"  
  
"What are doing here anyway? Anna closed her eyes effortlessly, clearly exhausted. "I'm just so tired."  
  
"Rest. Just rest. Can't you ever stop talking?"  
  
"You're funny. No, scratch that. You think you're funny."  
  
"Ha. I'm going with Sydney to get the antidote. But I need to take some of your blood," sad Sark, looking down the syringe in his hand.  
  
Anna looked away, her eyes tilted to the roof, as he prepared her arm for the needle. "You know, when I was little, my dad would always tell me stories when I was sick. He'd start off reading, you know, a normal fairy tale but then he'd add things and just make them better! My favorite was always the one about this princess in the tower." Anna grinned at the memory, not noticing when the needle pinched her delicate skin. "She was beautiful but trapped in this tower, with nothing to do but wait for Prince Charming. But my dad twisted the ending. The Prince didn't come for her. She escaped all, needing no one to be strong and fearless. She actually ended up saving the prince from a terrible fate, you know how how it is." She laughed lightly to herself, Sark's bright blue eyes watching her intently as she spoke. "I always wanted to be that princess in the tower. Strong, independent, fearless."  
  
"You already are." Sark hid his shock at what he'd said. Where was all this coming from?  
  
Anna's arched brown eyes lifted. "Are you being nice because you're getting rid of me?"  
  
Sark capped the vial of blood. "As much as I'd love that, you're not going anywhere."  
  
"You're mighty optimistic. And if this cure doesn't work?" commented Anna, her voice very low and uneven as she shut her eyes once again.  
  
"It will work. Trust me," Sark promised. He actually wanted to mean it. Bizarre.  
  
"Like that'll happen," she replied slowly, her eyes still closed.  
  
Sark chewed on his lower lip, debating about what to say next. "Anna—about last week, and everything that has happened since we first met, I just think that you should know--," He looked at her peaceful face, her breathing steady and deep. "Anna?" She was asleep.  
  
"Christ, the one time I decide to be forthcoming...," he mumbled to himself, carefully arising as to not awaken her. He gave her one final look before heading off to the plane and couldn't help but wonder if this would be the last time he'd ever see Anna Parker again.  
  
It was probably better she hadn't been awake. It was a moment of weakness and the last thing Sark needed was to tell Anna all the conflicting emotions he felt. Neither of them needed more complications. Some things were better left unsaid.  
  
*******  
  
Sydney clutched the briefcase containing the serum in her lap, watching intently as Sark wound the white bandage around his arm. He winced at the sharp pains running from the deep incision. "A little help?" He nodded towards Sydney, struggling to finish the treatment.  
  
Sydney briskly finished covering his bloody wound and lightly clapped it, making sure the gauze stuck.  
  
"Jesus!" Sark exclaimed, tenderly dabbing at the oozing cut on his forehead.  
  
Sydney sat back against her seat in the plane, still staring pointedly at Sark. "I want to know why you helped me. Why you helped her."  
  
"Well, you coming and threatening me may have influenced my decision," Sark answered, sarcasm in his tone as he avoided the reality of her question.  
  
Sydney brushed her long hair behind her ears, unsmiling. "You know what I mean."  
  
"Do I?"  
  
Her mouth tightened and her body tensed at his blank responses. "Cut the crap. Why is it, from the very start, that you agreed only to talk to her? What the hell are you planning? I don't trust you for one second and I'm sure as hell not going to let Anna be a pawn in one of your schemes!"  
  
Sark's lips turned upwards, showing mild but relaxed interest. "I'm cutting the deal the CIA formed for me. It's either that or execution; thanks but no thanks, if you get me."  
  
Sydney remained unsmiling, her eyes steady and imploring. "See the thing that gets me...the thing you keep avoiding is...why Anna? When my father, when I spoke to you...nothing...then, you ask for Anna...why?"  
  
"Your jealousy is heartwarming," Sark replied, resting his head against the cushioned chair.  
  
Sydney shook her head in disgust, realizing she was getting nowhere. "We both know you're a heartless son of a bitch, who looks out for no one but himself. If you think I'm going to let you destroy my friend, then you'd better reset your priorities. Or I will reset them for you."  
  
Sark laughed at her firm declaration. "Honestly, you Americans are so stern," his eyes widened for emphasis before he continued. "But you, Sydney, I do believe your threats. And I can, rather confidently, assure you that Agent Parker is part of no scheme or plan on my behalf. Of her own, I can't say. That said, my interests are purely for my own survival."  
  
"I don't believe you. I want you to stay away from her—,"  
  
"You came to me," Sark interrupted evenly.  
  
"After this, I mean. Stay away, Sark. I mean it." Sydney rose from her seat, collecting her purse.  
  
"Bristow—one thing. You tell me to stay away. I was ahead of you. But Anna, are you so certain that she can stay away?"  
  
Sydney said nothing, her mind spinning around his question. For once, Sark had a point. A good point. Sydney hated to admit it but as much as she wanted to believe his interest in Anna was one-sided, she could tell that her friend was equally curious and disturbed by Sark.  
  
"Oh, and one more thing. You should know that when we return, I have every intention of reinstating my partnership with Anna...Agent Parker, if you prefer." Sark grinned up at her amiably.  
  
"I won't allow it."  
  
"I'm fairly confident that you are not Anna Parker's babysitter."  
  
Sydney felt the anger boil inside of her and her expression hardened. "Well, then I will damn well make sure the Agency won't let this happen."  
  
Sark turned his eyes from Sydney, looking out the bright, sunny window of the airplane. "You'll be interested to know, then, that I already met with Kendall and he's agreed to it."  
  
Sydney's dark eyes flashed in the light. "Kendall? Kendall would not agree-- ,"  
  
"He did."  
  
"You are not getting away with this." She turned on her heel, struggling to keep her cool. She couldn't let Sark use and destroy her friend.  
  
******** A Few Days Later ********  
  
"They told me you were out here. Quite the view," commented a soft, feminine voice from behind him.  
  
Sark spun around to see Anna standing vibrantly before him, looking out at the sparkling ocean. Her skin had gained its colour and she no longer appeared tired and withdrawn. "It's something else."  
  
Anna smiled at him, exposing her clean, bright teeth. "You saved my life....again. I suppose I owe you a thank you."  
  
"I won't deny my surprise. You saying thanks? Uncharacteristic," Sark teased, a grin reaching his eyes. For a moment, they just reveled in eachother's company. Nothing more really needed to be said.  
  
The wind tossed Anna's hair and she squinted in the bright, enveloping sunlight. "See you Monday?"  
  
Sark placed his hands in his pockets, nodding his head. "Absolutely." They both knew they'd be back working together after all that had happened. Life was short. And both told themselves it was to further the cause, not to experience one another.  
  
Anna turned to leave but twirled around, running into his arms. She hugged him tightly, her lips tingling the hairs on his neck. "Thank you," she whispered, barely audible. Sark awkwardly responded, his hands winding their way around her back. Intimate physical contact, other than sex of course, was something alien to him. Anna pulled away from him, looking up shyly from her eyelids as he instinctively brushed a few stray hairs from her face, his warm fingers lingering for a moment on her luminous skin.  
  
Her mouth warmed into a dazzling smile as she left him standing shocked on the sandy shores.  
  
*****  
  
Anna walked to her desk, smiling as various people in the office said hello or waved. She sighed contently, happy to be back at work and found herself being comforted slightly by the usual mass of papers, files, and office supplies that littered her desk. Things felt normal.  
  
But one thing was out of place. A small, blue box with a ribbon quaintly sat in the center of the desk. Anna looked around the office curiously as she gingerly picked up the box, which was a bit heavier than she'd expected. Anna carefully took off the satin ribbon and removed the thick tissue paper packaging, her heart fluttering with anticipation. Her fingers met smooth glass and she gently removed the dome-shaped object. It was a snowglobe, sans the snow. Inside the pure, clear glass was a small brick structure and a small figure with long dark hair half-leaning out of it. Another small figure knelt on the grass. A princess and her prince. She shook it gently, her eyes entranced by the blue, pink, and purple sparkles that emptied into the globe.  
  
Her eyes narrowed as she searched for a clue to figure out who had given her this gift. Anna found a small card taped the bottom of the box and she opened it eagerly. "For the Princess in the Tower. Everyone needs a little help being saved" was scralled across the small card, in messy, loopy writing.  
  
Anna smiled, biting her lower lip as she realized who had left it for her. He walked into the room at the exact moment she had repackaged the globe and their eyes met across the office. She didn't break the look this time and he merely nodded in agreement before going to settle at his own workspace.  
  
Sark was always a surprise. 


	15. Chapter 15

"It's not your fault."  
  
"Because you care. God, you probably helped Sloane get away with them," Anna said accusingly.  
  
Sark ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes following her agitated hand movements. "You know that the CIA denies me access to computers. Not to mention, they tail me wherever I go, even in the house."  
  
Though she felt slightly regretful, Anna bit her tongue from saying it. Though she could not deny is helpfulness and willingness to cede information and go on missions to thwart Sloane's plans, seeds of doubt about Sark's true alliance still lay in her mind. "Yeah, I know. Anyway, I just can't fathom how he got those codes! Only you and I knew them, and there was no way that you could have transferred them to Sloane, even if you wanted to."  
  
"Are you actually testifying my innocence? I'm impressed. Perhaps, you've finally seen the light."  
  
"Get over it. This time, yes, there was no way you could have been working for Sloane and I have every intention of telling Kendall that if he questions you. Don't get excited. I still don't trust you." She paused, her thoughts wandering to their failed mission. After several successes since Anna and Sark had reunited professionally, Sloane had somehow gained the access codes and managed to steal the contents of an underground vault in Taipei just a minute before Anna and Sark reached it. Anna slammed her hand on the desk, feeling the blood pound in her veins. "Damnit. This was my fault. Sloane is now in posession of nuclear weapons--I should've....why didn't I...,"  
  
"There's something else." Sark leaned back in his chair, passing her a folder stamped "Classified". "Apparently, there was something hidden within the core of one of the four weapons that Sloane stole from the facility."  
  
Anna thumbed through the pages, looking at the translation of the various Rambaldi pages and artifact lists. "What?"  
  
Sark rubbed the back of his neck, grinding his teeth simultaneously. "A Rambaldi artifact," he spoke finally. "Apparently, it's one of the final pieces that connects everything together. From his writings, Rambaldi states that this item will determine the Passenger and, as you know, the bringer of all evil, etcetera, etcetera. Also, and don't overreact here, as I expect you will--,"  
  
"I do not overreact," Anna insisted, beginning to lose her composure. Weapons, Rambaldi, and now Sark was telling her that she's overdramatic?!  
  
"Rrrright. Anyway, Jack and Dixon think that this thing--whatever it is, will bring harm to Sydney, what with her direct link to the prophecy--"  
  
"Sydney is the Passenger. I get it. They think that if this thing somehow...jives with her that it will eliminate her, destroy her--like a failsafe. Christ. And Sloane has this?" Anna closed her eyes, letting the guilt for putting her friend in extreme harm envelop her. Anna couldn't let her best friend be ruined by a 'prophet' that lived hundreds of years ago. "We need to get it back. And destroy it," she insisted suddenly as she slammed the folder closed, feeling determination course through her.  
  
Sark sighed, inwardly admiring her endless drive and energy, even in the face of defeat. "It turns out that Sloane has strayed from the weapons and is now somewhere...we don't know where. The weapons, meanwhile, lay within an airborne facility."  
  
Anna's eyebrows rose up, as she bit her lip. "Wait. Airborne?"  
  
"When I worked under Sloane, most of his most critical assets were aboard a jet that landed only to refuel. This is most likely why the CIA was unable to acquire many of Sloane's assets after the downfall of SD-6," Sark explained, his tone straightforward.  
  
Anna drummed her fingers on the desk, the wheels in her mind turning intensively. "We're getting on the plane. I have a plan."  
  
Sark tossed an apprehensive glance her way. "We? Why is it that everytime you say that, I feel nervous?"  
  
"Get up. We're going to see Kendall. You still have your old contacts, right? They don't know you've switched sides?"  
  
"Yes," Sark said slowly, not exactly sure what Anna was planning.  
  
"Excellent! Hurry up!" She motioned for him to stand up quickly as she threw some files and loose papers in her briefcase.  
  
"You are so demanding."  
  
Anna rolled her eyes, smiling. She felt confident that Kendall would approve her plan. If she could get back the weapons and the Rambaldi piece, then she could save her friend and redeem herself in her own eyes. It would all work out. It had to.  
  
**********  
  
"Alright, so Sark'll be on the ground, claiming to want to cut a deal with Esperanto...this works...now, we just have to figure out a way to phsyically get on that plane," said Anna, kicking her feet up on the large, glossy table of the debrief room.  
  
"Parker, get your feet off that damn table!" Kendall said authoritatively.  
  
Anna popped her bubblegum loudly and then smiled brightly at her boss. "Yeah, listen, about that...I really don't think you get to make demands..." Kendall stared at her for a moment before quickly shielding his surprise at her comment. Anna continued to grin. "After all, you're not the one on a jet packed with nukes miles high in the sky, now are you?"  
  
Kendall had a murderous glint in his eye and Sark was convinced he was going to throttle Anna any second. 'When you return, we have got to have a serious talk about your trouble with authority, Parker."  
  
"Blah, blah, blah. Can we please focus on the issue at hand?" asked Anna, gesturing with her hands. "How can I get on this plane? Ideas?"  
  
Jack Bristow looked down at the shiny table, his mouth set in a firm, straight line. "We thought of having you set up as a maintenance crew but apparently routine maintenance was just completed last week."  
  
Marshall began to fidget in his seat, his head moving side to side quickly. "Hey, how about if she, you know, goes on as a pilot? Ms. Parker, Anna, sorry, Agent Parker, you do know how to fly a plane, although how you do is beyond me--that whole being in charge of hundreds of people's lives and keeping them from all plummeting to their deaths is way above--."  
  
Anna and Sark hid their amusement as Kendall nixed Marshall's plan. "That won't work. Esperanto's boss, the man currently on the plane until Sloane returns, Edward Kirsch, specifically has a list of personal pilots that have worked for him for decades. If we make a switch, he will know."  
  
Anna groaned, feeling frustrated. "Well, we've got to think of something. I want to be on that plane tonight!"  
  
Sark put his elbows on the table, melding his palms together. "I may have an idea." He stopped, shooting a glance across the table at Anna. "You're not going to like it."  
  
Anna tossed her hair, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Last time you said that I was trapped in the trunk of a car for 12 hours."  
  
"No, really. This plan, according to what Esperanto has told me--it should work. I need to confirm it, however. But it's kind of a see-it-to-believe- it-kind-of-thing. Give me 30 minutes," Sark insisted, looking towards Kendall for approval as he rose from his seat quickly.  
  
Kendall nodded his head reluctantly. "If no one has anything else...so be it."  
  
Anna watched Sark's retreating figure curiously. What was this plan of his?  
  
***********  
  
"Fran--I got it!" Anna lunged to pull the front door open just as she finished zipping up her travel bag. The bag fell to the floor with a resounding thump as she saw the person standing expectantly on the steps. "What are you doing here? You can't be here."  
  
"Great manners, Anna. Truly astounding," said Sark, as he pushed past her and into the open foyer. "I said a half-hour and I return only to find that you left. This is your big idea and yet you are unprepared! We are on a limited time schedule," he scolded her.  
  
Anna spun around, blocking him from moving any further into the house. "This is my home. You have no role in this part of my life! Let's just go," she whispered firmly, feeling flustered that Julian Sark was standing in her living room.  
  
Sark jumped away as Anna reached for his arm to pull him from the living room. He wandered over to the coffee table, setting a white, crisp shopping back on top of it. "First, you need to see this...do not get angry. It's for the...trip." He pulled out a small item from the bag, wrapped carefully in tissue paper, and as he took off the paper, he held it up gingerly.  
  
"You. Are. Kidding. Me." Anna looked at the tiny, barely visible fabric that made up a very suggestive and provocative piece of lingerie. "This is your master plan?!" she pronounced incredulously, trying to keep her voice low. "I am not wearing that. End of story."  
  
"Kirsch does have the plan landed, once every week. It's under the radar but Esperanto informed me that if I supply one of 'my women'--,"  
  
Anna's ponytail whipped to one side as she threw her head sideways, forcing herself to stay cool. "You have women? I am not your woman!"  
  
Sark tossed aside the lacy lingerie, walking around the small coffee table to face her. "It works like this. If I give Kirsch something, he'll give me something. However, instead of some random woman, we're going to get you on the plane--this way, you can get those nukes and I can have my meeting with Esperanto to get the info on Sloane and the codes we'll need....all you have to do is get on the plane, and get close enough to drug Kirsch."  
  
Anna's eyes narrowed as she considered his idea. "And the guards? The pilots?"  
  
"I'm sure a little intimidation works well. It's Kirsch you have to keep down. Otherwise, he'll notify Sloane and you'll lose your chance of getting him."  
  
"Don't you mean 'we'?" Anna questioned suspiciously, casting him a sidelong glance as she disdainfully lifted up the lingerie.  
  
Sark rolled his eyes. "You. We. Me. Whatever. Oh, and by the way, I took the liberty of selecting a few others. Apparently, Kirsch is quite...selective," Sark added, a smirk touching his lips.  
  
Anna's facial muscles twitched and Sark could see that she was restraining herself, her mouth opening to say something. But she was stopped, as a young woman entered the living room. Anna masked her shock quickly, planting a relaxed smile on her face as she tossed the lingerie back in the bag. "Hey, Francie, this is...Julian, from the bank. We're actually leaving for San Diego--he just brought the company car to pick me up." Francie gave an easy smile, quickly glancing at her friend's co-worker. "I think Anna's mentioned you before."  
  
Anna cringed inwardly, realizing that Sark would not let this go. She grabbed her bag and passport from the shelf and nodded towards Sark. "Let's go."  
  
Sark ignored her words and held out his hand to Francie. "Pleasure to meet you, Francie." Anna rolled her eyes slightly, although even she had to admit that he sounded quite charming.  
  
As they headed toward the door, Anna looked back at her friend, who was mouthing "That's him?" and making an "A-OK" symbol with her fingers. Anna shook her head, chuckling quietly, as they descended the front stairs.  
  
"So you talk about me?" Sark inferred immediately, getting in to the black Sedan. "How enchanting."  
  
Anna sighed, trying to figure out a way to explain herself. "In passing. You know--'there's this total jerk at work', and so on."  
  
"Whatever you say, Parker. But honestly, I'm touched." Sark pulled out the driveway with ease, as Anna tossed him a casual glance.  
  
"Honestly, don't be," she said in a sing-song voice, pausing thoughtfully for a moment afterwards. "But thanks, for being cool, and all that."  
  
Sark's eyes focused on the road infront of them. "It's not my first day on the job...So that's where you live."  
  
Anna leaned back comfortably in her seat, watching the simple houses and lawns zip by. "What did you think it would look like? I do have a life outside the CIA."  
  
"Funny. I know that. It's just...it was cozy, quaint even!" Sark replied, shrugging his shoulders cheerfully for emphasis.  
  
Anna smirked. "Well, I guess it beats your past and future home of cement and bars."  
  
Sark whistled, a smile threatening to cross his mouth. "You're sharp today. Keep it up and Kirsch will just love you."  
  
"Oh God, don't remind me. Not to mention, I get to look like a trashy prostitute while doing my job. This is fabulous."  
  
"If the shoe fits...," Sark trailed off, flashing Anna a wide grin as she slapped him on the shoulder playfully.  
  
"Shut up. It's your fault! Christ, could you have picked anything with less material? How'd you know my size anyway?" she asked, her hands running over the smooth front of the bag.  
  
"A natural gift, I suppose. I can just tell--,"  
  
Anna shook her head, looking down at her lap. "You're a sleaze and a half!"  
  
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."  
  
"Ah, denying reality. Your favorite pasttime."  
  
Sark shot her a look as he pulled into the hanger where the plane was located. "Do you want to review the mission?"  
  
Anna climbed from the vehicle, pulling out her bags. She tapped the shopping bag with the lingerie inside. "I think it's pretty self- explanatory. Besides, do I ever need to review the missions?" she answered confidently.  
  
"It's arrogance like that that'll get you killed." He followed her into the plane and they settled comfortably in two leather seats across from one another.  
  
"You might want to clean up your bleeding heart." Sark met Anna's willful eyes, not removing his gaze. "Think of it this way, darling. If you die, the CIA will not hesitate to toss me into lockdown again. I don't plan on going there again. Ever." He turned from her, swearing to himself that he would never again be behind bars. It was an experience he did not care to repeat.  
  
But there was more to it than just his own fear of incarceration. For some unexplicable reason, he had a tiny knot in his stomach that was directly related to this mission. Something was going to happen but he had no idea what.  
  
Anna flicked her eyes up from her book, watching Sark gaze distractedly out the window. She wondered what he was thinking, his expression so focused and long lines running in his forehead. She flicked through the pages aimlessly, unable to concentrate on the long rows of words as an unfamiliar feeling rested in her mind and body. Worry. This mission worried her and she had no idea why—  
  
"You said my first name. I'd never heard you say it before, which is bizarre, considering I call you by yours all the time."  
  
Anna looked up, surprised he had noticed she'd referred to him as Julian. "Yeah, even though it's against policy. But I've given up. No matter how many times I've told you it's Agent Parker, you insist on calling me Anna....don't expect me to start calling you 'Julian' now..."  
  
"I wouldn't have expected it. Besides, my last name--well it's just so much more evil, wouldn't you agree?" he replied, smiling.  
  
Anna laughed. "I think Marshall would. When hears the words 'Mr. Sark', he almost has a panic attack then and there. It'd be cute...if he weren't truly scared he was on your hitlist! Ahhh...I knew a Julian once. Spoiled, arrogant, convinced he was God's gift to cursive writing--Gosh, he's sounding like someone else...someone that may even share the same name!"  
  
"Hey, not me!" he interrupted, laughing and gesturing outwards with his hands. "My cursive writing is less than stellar. Oh and it's not arrogance, it's charm."  
  
"Is that what they call it now? Anyway, if I'm remembering correctly, this kid was a nasty little troublemaker. Similarities abound."  
  
"Or maybe it's just that you have an unnatural attraction to troublemakers!"  
  
Anna's eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks turning pink. "Oh yeah...right," she said lamely. They both smiled shyly and Anna returned, flustered, to her book. Oh yeah...right. That's the best you could do, she berated herself.  
  
"Birdsong. Is it good?" Sark interrupted her thoughts, looking calm and cool. He took the book from her hands, running his thumb along the title. "War?"  
  
"Yes and yes." Anna smiled slightly, glad for the change of topic. "It's about this man who falls in love with this woman but it's just not meant to be and she ends up leaving him. Then, World War I comes and he enlists, never knowing what happened to her. It's amazing, really. The writing...you can feel not just the grit and pure horror of war but the souls that were lost. And actually, it just got really good!" She stopped, grabbed the book back from his hands, searching for the page she was on.  
  
Sark watched her for a moment; the way her eyes flickered in the light and her sensuous lips curved into a smile, showing straight, white teeth. She was excited. He'd seen her sad. He'd seen her frustrated. And he'd definitely seen her angry. But she'd been hiding happiness and excitement, which was probably a good thing because he had to admit that with her pure, untouched radiance in those moments, who could help just completely falling in—  
  
"There. Ok. Right. I remember this. So then guess what happens? Somehow the guy meets up with his old lover's sister and she takes him to see her. He's shocked and still totally in love her. Not to mention, he's dealing with the war and watching his friends be brutally killed," Anna said breathlessly.  
  
"Sounds like a real up-lifter. Might want to take a pistol to the head after reading that."  
  
She exaggeratedly lifted her eyes up to the ceiling, slamming the book shut. "Maybe you just can't appreciate good literature. You should read this. But it probably will have zero effect on you. You're like a forcefield. Nothing gets through," she said nonchalantly, stretching her arms above her head.  
  
Sark cocked his head, her words startling him. "What do you mean?"  
  
Anna sat forward in her chair, hands wound together. "Yeah, ok, so bullets and wounds affect you. Big deal. But see, you're cold. Completely cold. Nothing touches you...which I suppose is why you're so effective at what you do." She breathed out deeply, standing up. "But, I mean, whatever. We've had the discussion before. No need to repeat it...I should, uh, get ready for this." Anna headed to the bathroom, spinning around before she opened the door. "Oh, and just so you know, I totally plan on getting my revenge," she added lightheartedly, holding up the lacy material.  
  
Sark laughed as he settled back in his seat, stretching his legs luxuriously. He closed his eyes and just sat peacefully and mindlessly, quickly drifting into unconsciousness.  
  
**** He saw a woman standing with her back to him in a bright room, sun streaming through the wide windows. Her face was shielded by a simple white veil. Large mirrors formed a semi-circle around her, as she moved side-to- side, her pure white dress swishing gently across the hardwood. Sark stepped slowly towards her, captivated by the way the sun touched the woman, making her an angel of light. As he reached out to touch her shoulder, some sort of invisible force made him unable to reach out to her. Sark heard his father's raw, rough voice call out to him, telling him he'd never have anything, that he was nothing, worthless...The woman drifted away from him as the light dimmed and the walls enclosed on him. The sound of a door slamming shut thundered in his ears, mixing with the voice of his father. He could hear a child crying for help as he pounded on the door, wanting out of this dark, inhibiting room. That wasn't just a child. That was him. ****  
  
Sark shot awake, touching his skin, feeling beads of sweat resting on his forehead. It was just a dream, just a dream, he told himself, trying to steady his breathing. It was odd. He hadn't dreamt about his father in months, not since he'd been with the CIA. Why now? Why was that terrifying memory of being locked in the closet coming back to him now?  
  
He rubbed his palms together, shaking the thoughts from his mind. He couldn't dwell in the past. Sark had to think about the future. He jumped out, giving himself a quick shake to rid himself of any remnants of that dream.  
  
Sark turned the knob of the bathroom door, finding it was locked. She must still be in there. "Anna, come on. I actually fell asleep and woke up and you're still in here. How long can it take?!" he called to her.  
  
The door swung open forcefully and Anna stepped into the doorway, finishing tying a robe loosely around her body. "Trashy, huh? You will pay!" Her normally straight hair now framed her face in large curls and her face was glowing in the harsh light of the bathroom.  
  
The plan sputtered to the left and Anna lost her balance, tumbling into Sark, who managed to steady himself into the wall behind him. He held onto her waist with one hand, his other reaching up to her the back of her neck as the plane continued to veer to the left. Anna tried to ignore the touch of his hands on her body and the sounds of their hearts beating loudly in sync. She wasn't scared at all. Finally, the ground was steady and Anna pulled away from him, grabbing onto each side of the bathroom doorway, her breaths short and uneven. The ties of her robe had come undone, exposing a tan, athletic body barely covered with deep red lace. Sark's eyes followed her curves, lingering on the glimpses of her smooth neck and shoulders.  
  
"I thought red was better than the virginal white," she murmured softly. Sark crossed the few feet that separated them, putting his hands firmly on her waist as her brown eyes looked up at him, vulnerable.  
  
"Red is always a good choice."  
  
...To be continued... 


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Sorry this one took so long. I had a hard time writing it because it's a little more action-y. Hope you guys liked it. I've already started working on the next one!  
  
Much to her surprise, Anna felt him retie the robe around her body. Sark cleared his throat and stepped back from her, straightening the collar of his dark shirt.  
  
"So, are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, fine. That always seems to happen on our flights. What was that?" Anna asked, stepping back into formality.  
  
Sark shrugged. "No clue. I'm assuming just turbulence. Not the best way to start a mission, I suppose. Maybe it's a sign—the fact that it keeps happening everytime we work together."  
  
Anna tilted her head, grinning. "Look at you--all superstitious! Should we knock on wood or wear little charms?" she teased. Her eyes searched the plane expectantly. "Where are the leprechauns and little people? Harry Potter?" she called out innocently.  
  
Sark shook his head in response, hiding a small smile as he sat back down in his seat. "Hysterical. Really. We're all jolly, now, thanks. Come on, sit down now, we're about to land."  
  
Anna plopped down in the chair, her legs wound themselves into a cross- legged position. She began to unravel the plastic wrapper from what looked like a lollipop and popped it into her mouth.  
  
"Surely, you realize that you look like a small child?"  
  
"Eat me. It's a sucker. I'm sure even you, in your white-collar, pristine English childhood, managed to lower yourself to having a lollipop at some point," she answered, licking the sides of the green candy.  
  
Sark laughed, surprised that someone could have so many different sides to them. "Sometimes...I just wonder how you're a CIA agent. Here you are, eating a child's candy, and in half-an-hour, you'll be obtaining codes, incognito no less, for the government of the United States."  
  
Anna lifted her eyes to the ceiling, her hands digging around in the pockets of her robe. "Ah, here we go. You want one? It's watermelon. Watermelon is definitely one of my top three flavours!"  
  
He took it reluctantly from her hands and awkwardly took off the wrapper, daintily putting it in his mouth for a moment, before he took it out again. "You're right. Watermelon is nice."  
  
It was Anna's turn to laugh. "See? You really need to live a little. And a sucker is just one baby step on the path to an enlightened life..."  
  
Sark arched one eyebrow. "Enlightened life?"  
  
"Yeah. There's sugar sticks and sour keys and suckers with gum. Dude, it's a whole new world."  
  
"Did you just call me 'dude'?"  
  
"I'm American. I have exclusive rights to the word 'dude'!" Anna exclaimed, biting loudly down on her lollipop. "So tell me, how dangerous is this Kirsch?"  
  
"Former KGB, second rung in the old Alliance of 12, free-lance assassin...Dangerous. You have to be careful...if he realizes who you are, he will not hesitate to eliminate you," Sark explained seriously, twirling around the lollipop.  
  
Anna waved her hand dismissively, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Saying 'yes, Anna, he's dangerous' would've been enough. Honestly, why is it that you think I can't handle my job. Haven't I proven to you already that I'm capable?"  
  
Sark put on his black leather jacket, running a hand threw his short hair. "Yes, you are capable. I don't doubt nor disagree with that statement. However, I've read your file and--,"  
  
"You've read my file. No. The CIA would not give you that kind of access," Anna interjected loudly, leaning forward.  
  
"You're right. They wouldn't and didn't. I read it before I 'came' to the CIA. Once I realized I'd been tricked in Marseilles, I set up a team to discover the culprit. You. I've read it all. Your training. Your time at SD- 6 and the CIA. The missions and assignments."  
  
Anna nodded quietly, indicating that Sark should continue. "Well, your record is fairly spotless but there's just one thing I noticed. On every referral, every evaluation, the same assessment is always made: lack of self-concern, reckless behaviour, takes personal risks, etc. You will do anything to get what you need, with little concern to your own personal well-being--,"  
  
"So? What, you, of all people, are criticizing me for this? I do what I need to. End of story," Anna jumped up, changing from her robe into a long coat behind his seat.  
  
Sark continued to stare straight ahead. "I wasn't criticizing. I was stating a fact. And for the record, I do understand. Some things are just worth it. Especially when there's little else to stay around for."  
  
Anna stopped dead in her tracks. He did know. "It's..," she hesitated, "...hard to get attached to something that has such little value. I guess when there's nothing to come back to, there's not much incentive for safety."  
  
Sark rose from his chair, grabbing his briefcase and putting on a pair of dark sunglasses that shielded his eyes from hers. Anna went down the stairs and out into the warm, light air, the knot of worry inside of her growing tighter.  
  
"Come back," Sark called simply from the top of the stairs, watching her.  
  
Anna tossed her long hair and smiled up at him, her head slightly cocked. "Oh, I will. You owe me candy." She strode off, the wind ruffling her hair, and prepared to see for herself just how dangerous this Mr. Kirsch really was.  
  
"Anna, cough if you can hear me. I'm about to go to the lounge to meet Esperanto," Sark said, barely moving his lips as he entered into the small Irish pub, not a mile from the airport where he had just dropped her off.  
  
"It's fine. I'm in the changeroom, I have a few minutes. Jerk didn't like the red. Get the codes ASAP, ok? At this rate, I should have handled Kirsch within the next few minutes," Anna said quietly over the intercom.  
  
Sark hid a small smile, feeling some of his earlier, inexplicable concern ebb away. "Just be careful. He's been instructed by Sloane to be extremely vigilant."  
  
Anna sighed loudly. "Again with the lack of confidence in me! I am going to bring back the cores of those weapons on a silver platter for you. Then we can talk. I'm out."  
  
Sark listened carefully to what was going on the other end of his earpiece as he drummed his fingers on the table, awaiting the arrival of Esperanto, who was already 15 minutes late. He heard Kirsch's loud groan of approval when Anna must have reappeared and then sounds of movement and clothing rustling. Sark felt his body tense and his mind strain as he listened intently to Kirsch's low moans, visually imagining his hard, calloused hands hungrily touching Anna's soft, silky skin.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Sark," Damon Esperanto stood infront of the table, holding out his hand.  
  
Sark stood up, giving the man a firm handshake. "Short notice, I know. Thank you for taking the time to meet me. I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine."  
  
"It's been awhile," Esperanto commented dryly as he nestled back into the plush leather chair. "I'd heard...rumours...that you'd bowed out."  
  
Sark acknowledged the young waitress as she set out two glasses and a bottle of deep red wine. "Thank you." He took a small sip, savouring the sensation of the cool liquid skimming down his throat. "You've heard wrong. I'm still in. There's something I want."  
  
"Naturally. Children like you always want for something," Esperanto replied nastily, folding his hands.  
  
Sark shook his head, laughing under his breath. "Well, if what you say of me is true, then you should have no problem indulging me. After all, look no further than to your other children." He whipped out a small folder from the inside of his coat and casually slid it across the table. "Open it. I'm sure you remember that little girl. Fourteen years old. Oh, and then there's her too--," Sark said, pointing discreetly towards the pictures Esperanto held in his shaking hands. "But she was thirteen, I think. Right, and let's not forget your own son and daughter. Tut tut tut." He leaned across the table and lowered his voice to a whisper, his eyes narrowed on the other man's worried expression. "Do you know what they do in prison to men—to sick bastards—like you? Not to mention, crimes of this magnitude...and this level of disgust...you're looking at decades here, mate."  
  
Esperanto began to visibly shake, his face red and beginning to form beads of sweat. "I—I..." He broke off, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and scrambled to light one.  
  
Sark ripped the cigarette from his hand, tearing it in two. "Don't you know those things will kill you. I repeat: There's something I want."  
  
Anna tried not to grimace as Kirsch massaged her shoulders roughly, his hands digging into her skin. She could feel his hunger for her body and forced herself to hide her repulsion as he lowered her down on the bed. All she needed to do was prick him with a drop of the sedative at a pressure point and he would be out but Kirsch refused to stay still, constantly slithering up and down her. Anna bit her lip as he licked her face lustily, attempting to look serene. She took the initiative to slide out from under his bulk and straddle his body, her lips nearly touching his ear as she grabbed his wrists, restraining them seductively. "Ooh, naughty, naughty," Kirsch breathed out, surrendering to her. Anna coaxed the pin from her heavy bracelet, jamming it into his left wrist. "I liked the red one," Anna said severely, getting off the bed. He cried out in pain as he lunged for her, his face contorting unattractively, "Bitch...you little--," His voice fizzled out as he lost consciousness.  
  
"Sark—he's out. I'm going after the other guard and then the weapons. Get me the codes," she said into her earpiece, covering herself with a khaki jumpsuit. Anna knocked on the door of the bedroom, peeking out the door. "Excuse me." The dark-haired guard looked up at her from his chair just outside the room. "There's something wrong with him. He just fell asleep while we were...well, you know," she said sweetly. As the guard entered the room and bent over Kirsch, Anna jumped behind him and stabbed him in the neck with the other pin, watching as he fell to the floor. She bent down, grabbing the key card for the cargo-hold and exhaled deeply. It was now or never.  
  
Anna ran down the steps to the first cargo-hold, unlocking the door hastily. Her eyes ran the length of the relatively empty room. Nothing, the nuclear weapons were not there. Checking her watch, she hurried to the second storage room, silently praying to find what she was looking for. She scanned the room quickly, which was full of wooden boxes. Anna cracked open one of the larger boxes, finding only an old blender and toaster. She ran to the next one, wiping her forehead as she pulled out more useless items. "Shit." Tossing them aside, she tried one final box, throwing off the lid aggressively. It was empty, except for hoards of packing materials. She panicked and removed the Styrofoam bits, her hands latching onto a small glass vile. Realizing it was a blood sample, she looked at the tag, her eyes widening. Anna Parker, it read. Her breath caught in her throat as she fumbled to place the vile protectively in her inside pocket, her body immobilized with shock. "S---Sark, Oh my God. Oh my God," she repeated in a soft whisper. Suddenly her vision was skewed by a blinding white flash of pain and she crumpled to the ground.  
  
Sark maintained his outward calm, though inwardly he was concerned about what he had overheard. Anna had expressed her shock at something and there'd been a tone of fear to her voice. His split his focus, listening for any sound from Anna's end but hearing nothing but a slight buzz. Her link was dead.  
  
"So, Mr. Sark...let me get this straight: you want me to tell you the codes to a set of nuclear weapons that you assume are in the custody of my boss?" Esperanto said quietly, having relaxed once Sark had replaced the incriminating photos back in his jacket.  
  
Sark shook the various scenarios about what was happening on that plane from his head, pursing his lips. "I'd hate to believe that you're feeling...confident...about our situation. Because you have no reason to be." He paused, running a finger across his mouth. "There are two ways to do this. You can willingly cede the information I require or you can do it...involuntarily. Have no fear, Mr. Esperanto, I will release these photographs once I have 'extracted', and I mean that quite literally, the codes and then you'll become someone's after-dinner mint just like that!"  
  
"I—I...just—," Esperanto responded weakly, his eyes exposing fear.  
  
"Let's go for a drive, shall we?" Sark flicked his wrist at the waitress and slammed a few bills on the table, opening his pocket knife visibly to his scared enemy. "Try anything and you're dead."  
  
Once they were in the black, CIA issued car, with Esperanto at the wheel, Sark gave directions back to the airfield.  
  
Esperanto's sweaty face looked surprise as they pulled into the dark, vacant airport. "I don't understand. Why are we back here?"  
  
Sark glanced at him casually as he stepped out of the car and leaned against the hood; Esperanto followed, standing humbly before him. "We're waiting," Sark said, glancing into the deep night sky, attentive to any movements Esperanto might try to make. "When the plane lands, my partner will have the weapons, no doubt. But the plan was for her to disengage them in the air. Unfortunately, you've been less than forthcoming with the codes." With that, he launched a hard elbow-punch into Esperanto's ribs, watching as his body crumbled to the cold cement. "If you give them to me now, I could save myself the effort and you the pain."  
  
Esperanto fought for some semblance of dignity and spat, narrowly missing Sark's shoes. "Apparently, you have some sort of a death-wish."  
  
"No, but it doesn't matter. You'll kill me whether or not I tell you the codes. Either way, I lose. But I won't let you win, you evil little bastard," Esperanto heaved. "That tart you put on the plane—,"  
  
Sark kicked him squarely in the jaw. "Don't speak of her."  
  
Esperanto coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. "He knows. Kirsch knows. He will have his way with her and then kill her. Pretty thing, I'm sure. Young, fresh, well—,"  
  
Sark bent down, gripping the man by his collar violently. "Shut up. What does he know?! Tell me now!"  
  
Esperanto laughed cruelly, finally having found a weapon against Sark. "He knows what she is after. This meeting was a set up. We were informed that the CIA would be trying to infiltrate the plane to get their filthy hands on those weapons. But I didn't expect you to be CIA. Nor did I expect such unfriendliness from you.Honestly."  
  
Sark shook his head, trying to process all this information. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't. She sedated him—,"  
  
"You should know...," Esperanto stopped, catching his breath, "...that our informant was very helpful. We were able to anticipate the sedative—God forbid the CIA kill someone—and Kirsch took measures to insure he would be able to avoid the effects of the drug...an anti-sedative, I think it was. So right about now, I'd be thinking that he's holding a gun to your little girlfriend's head."  
  
Anna woke up to the sensation of feeling the cool steel of the barrel of a gun pressed to her forehead. Struggling to open her eyes, she fingered the bump on head lightly, feeling a sticky substance bind to her skin. Blood.  
  
"And the sleeping beauty awakens," a male voice commented.  
  
Anna tried to focus her vision but all the images she saw were blurred. "Ahhh," she sighed painfully, realizing her hands were binded.  
  
"You're a beautiful girl. We could have had fun...but sadly, you decided to be naughty and try to sedate me."  
  
The blurriness became clearer as she realized who stood before her, toting a gun threateningly. "Kirsch."  
  
Kirsch laughed loudly. "And she gets it in one...You must have questions. First, where are those damned weapons, am I right? And second, how am I not sleeping soundly, huh? Huh? We knew you would come. The weapons are not here. All of this was intended as a distraction for the CIA. You didn't really think it would be this easy, did you? And as for the second question? Want to guess at that? Answer me, girl!"  
  
Anna lifted her head, her fearless eyes meeting his, dead-on. "I figured that with your age and all, you must get tired...unable to perform. Don't worry. It happens to all old men."  
  
Kirsch whipped his hand across her face, leaving a bright red welt. "I can show you what I can do." His hand grabbed her chin, roughly smashing his lips on hers. He started to unzip her suit, her body struggling to stop him, before a cell-phone ring made him drop him harshly to the ground.  
  
"I have to do it now?" Kirsch said into the phone.  
  
Anna was able to reach for the small knife in her back pocket and remove the protective covering behind her back. She pointed it at such an angle that it would saw her ties apart, watching Kirsch carefully.  
  
"Fine. Now it is."  
  
She cut faster, while keeping her expression blank. Faster. Faster. Faster.  
  
"Yes. You're the boss. Alright, see you in an hour." Kirsch slipped his cell phone back in his pocket and bent down to her ear. "Looks like I won't get to show you after all. Time does not permit." There, her bonds were free! He leaned in again to slide his tongue across her cheek. Anna jumped up, knocking Kirsch off-balance, as he fell backwards into several wooden crates. She whipped the knife forcefully into his left shoulderblade and scrambled out of the storage room, realizing she'd have to find parachute gear in order to get off the plane.  
  
Anna ran to the emergency closet and grabbed an emergency vest with a parachute before heading up to the pilot's control room. She picked up the gun from the guard she'd sedated and carefully made her way to the head of the plane, hoping to find something that she could use to get a communications link to Sark. His meeting with Esperanto was probably part of the set-up. His life could be in danger. Anna pushed open the door, expecting to be aiming at two pilots but finding none, only a red-button flashing auto-pilot. Anna pulled apart the control board, searching for wires and finding a spare headset. She was able to use the satellite connection already available on the plane to connect to the CIA. "This is Agent Parker. Can you read me?"  
  
Kendall's voice answered. "Parker, what the hell is going on?"  
  
"No time. Get me Marshall. This was all a set up," Anna explained hurriedly, waiting for Marshall's nervous voice to sound in her hear.  
  
"Uh, yes, Anna? How can I be of—," There he was.  
  
"Marshall, I need you to establish a link to Sark's comm. Now."  
  
"Sark—they're not here. It was a trap! This whole thing was a God-damned set-up! Kirsch parachuted out, already! The plane is going explode...Do you hear me...there's a bomb!" Her voice broke over the communications system. "Track Kirsch...I put a motion tracker on that son-of-a-bitch! He knows where the Rambaldi artifact is—,"  
  
"Wait...I know! Esperanto—...it was all a set-up. They knew we would come. You need to get off that plane!" Sark yelled, training his gun on Esperanto threateningly.  
  
"There's...no....time...get...Kirsch." Static overtook her voice. Sark could hear Sydney Bristow's voice as the CIA tapped into their link. She was telling Anna to land the plane, her tone frantic and upset.  
  
"Sark...get him...Syd....don't worry, I—," the link went dead and both Sark and the CIA heard nothing but silence from Anna's end. Sark shot Esperanto squarely in the leg, tearing open his satchel of gear as the man fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Sark looked quickly to the starry sky with his binoculars, feeling himself grow cold as his eyes focused on a small but bright orange fireball glowing in the sky. Something inside of him knew that the plane that Anna was on had exploded. "It's gone," he said bluntly, adding quietly. "The plane exploded." He waited for a response from Sydney, hearing only a few muffled cries as he stood dully on the tarmac of the airport runway.  
  
"You don't know that. You don't know that," Sydney repeated softly over the network.  
  
"Her link went dead."  
  
"That—that could have been...from anything...dead airspace...interference--," Sydney whispered.  
  
Sark shook his head in disbelief, even though she could not see him. "Sydney— I saw it. I saw it explode. There is no way—just....no way. But now, I have business to attend to." Sark looked steely down at a whimpering Esperanto.  
  
"Sark, what are you going to do?" Sydney asked desperately. He heard people arguing and then Kendall's voice rang in his ear.  
  
"You do nothing. You will wait until a team comes to pick you up."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. That is just not feasible at this point."  
  
Kendall grew angrier. "Sark, damnit, you don't move a bloody inch--,"  
  
"Again, this is unfortunate. But I have two things to do. Send a team after me. I'll be gone before they get here. However, I can assure you, I am not about to betray the CIA."  
  
"Your promises are nothing—,"  
  
Sark removed his earpiece, effectively cutting off Kendall's voice. He bent to the ground, taking two small, but impeccable sharp knives from his ankle. He glanced over at Esperanto's sweaty face as he spoke, "You know, one of these knives is a special weapon first made by the ancient Chinese. When the blade hits your flesh, it literally causes your skin to burn as though it had been touched by acid. Naturally, the pairing of this...painful sensation...with the fact that you've just been impaled with a knife, can kill a man. You and Kirsch set the CIA up. You set me up. And you set the woman on that plane up. I should kill you." Sark's expression grew more deadly as he thought about Anna. He opened his jacket, undoing his shirt. "But first, I need to know what you know. Where the hell is the Rambaldi artifact?"  
  
Esperanto leaned away from Sark, his entire body convulsing in fear. "I—I...don't know. I have...no idea. I swear. Only Kirsch knows. But Kirsch...he told me that the only person who can decipher the Rambaldi codes is a man named Alvin Dresden. Once they have the artifact, they need to take it to this man...he has the key, unknowingly, somehow. I don't know anymore than that...I promise!" Esperanto said hurriedly, looking wearily at the two knives in Sark's hands.  
  
"Where is Dresden?" Sark demanded.  
  
"I—I honestly don't know. Neither does Sloane. He is searching for Dresden and doesn't know where he is. Kirsch hasn't told him—he's waiting for incentive. Only Kirsch knows, I swear!"  
  
Sark took one of the blades to his right shoulder, making a small incision. He grimaced, needling out a small, square object as blood drizzled from the wound. It was the tracker the CIA had placed in him. Sark looked squarely at Esperanto's quivering body. "I guess we know which knife is which, considering I'm not dead. Oh...and by the way, wrong answer." Sark plunged the other knife into Esperanto's stomach, twisting it violently in his flesh. He stood up, leaving the man to die on the hard concrete, and placed his tracker delicately next to Esperanto's bloody, shaking form. Now, there was one more person...  
  



	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I'm getting to the best parts, IMO, now!!!! Thanks for your comments! ( Be warned, this is a long chapter.  
  
Sark drove quickly, weaving in and out of the lanes, as he raced to reach Kirsch before the man either left his current location or, worse, realized Anna had tracked him and removed the device. Glancing at the small screen that blinked where Kirsch was, he pushed his foot harder on the gas pedal.  
  
She had been innocent. She was just doing her job and it killed her. He ran a hand through his hair distractedly, trying to come to terms with the quick-paced events of the night. Part of him was entirely calm; casualties were a fair risk in their game and he knew that. But there was a small part of him that was not as settled concerning the death of Anna. Regret. Guilt. That part of Sark screamed to the rest of him that it was his plan to put her on the plane and his fault that she had been killed. The more rational, normal side of him reminded him that he hadn't agreed to work with the CIA to make friends. He was their prisoner, unwillingly for the most part and hence, he should be relishing in the satisfaction that one of their own was dead.  
  
There was a small problem. Sark knew the CIA would come for him, blaming him for what had transpired that night, whether or not he declared his innocence. Removing the tracking device would only increase their belief of his guilt but, at least this way, he had more time to figure out his next move. There was the option of going into hiding but should the CIA, and most likely, Bristow, hunt him down, he would most likely be executed without question. On the other hand, he could gain what information he could from Kirsch and hand it over to the CIA, thus reinforcing his loyalty to the United States, and he could possibly even use it as a bargaining tool. Either way, Sark was well aware of the fact that he would shoulder the blame for Anna Parker's death. But he couldn't afford to be impaled with foreign emotions. Not now, not ever. As it always had been, it was time to look after himself.  
  
Sark rolled to a stop a short distance before the dark, dodgy warehouse where Kirsch was supposed to be, according to the tracker.  
  
He pulled out his gun, attentive to the slightest sound as he entered the bare warehouse. But it wasn't entirely empty. A large figure stood in the center, surrounded by material. Kirsch. "Drop it. Hands in the air."  
  
Kirsch turned around slowly, his expression frowning. "Ah, Mr. Sark. Joined the CIA. Sorry to hear that, I was." He let go of his cell-phone and weapon; they hit the cement with a loud thud.  
  
"I want some information. Give it to me and I'll make things less painful for you." Sark's voice was like cold steel.  
  
Kirsch folded his hands rather casually, as though he was addressing an old friend. "Do you not want to know the fate of your partner?"  
  
Sark stare remained unwavering though a cold shudder spread across his insides. "No games."  
  
"How did you find me anyway? Give me that, at least. I thought my plan was good. Escape unnoticed, dispose of your little friend...I guess one out of two ain't bad," Kirsch baited him.  
  
He took a few steps closer to Kirsch, his resolve fading.  
  
"That little bitch...she put a tracking device on me, didn't she? Ha. Now I feel even better about blowing her into a thousand little pieces," Kirsch said snidely, sitting complacently in the middle of the floor. "A valiant effort on her part though--,"  
  
Sark drove his gun into Kirsch's head briskly. "I would not, if I were you."  
  
Kirsch massaged his head, lightly licking one of his bloodied fingers. "Kudos to her. She really tried. We actually had a good fight for a bit. She was a rough one, that one," Kirsch added, blatantly ignoring Sark's warning. "Not to mention damn pretty."  
  
Sark bent down over Kirsch, nearly ready to keep him quiet permanently. But Kirsch took advantage of this opportunity and lunged for Sark's gun, wheedling it from his hand. Jumping up triumphantly, Kirsch aimed at Sark dead-on. "I never cared much for you. You're too young. Cocky. British. But no hard feelings, mate.  
  
A shot ran into the quiet, night air.  
  
Kirsch fell to the ground, hugging his wounded knee, which was oozing bright red blood onto the cool pavement. Sark leapt from the ground cautiously to look at the assailant, his eyes widening as the person revealed themselves from the shadows.  
  
"You didn't really think it'd be that easy, did you, sweetheart?" Anna said tiredly to Kirsch, steadily aiming her gun at the two men before her though she limped slightly as she moved closer. "What a way to end our first date. Attempted murder. How sweet."  
  
Sark took a hesitant step towards her, wondering how it was possible that she had survived the explosion on the plane. "How is this—,"  
  
Anna held up her hand to stop him, grimacing slightly, as she was obviously pained by her knee. "Don't come any nearer...I don't what you're doing...or how you got here but I don't trust you. Not for one second. And don't think that I won't hesitate to blow you to pieces if you try anything."  
  
Sark glanced from Anna to Kirsch and back again. "You think I betrayed the CIA. That I set this all up. And that I was going to kill Kirsch to dispose of the evidence," he surmised clearly.  
  
"Smart boy. For months, I have been waiting for you to show your true allegiances," Anna said, her eyes fiery. Sark moved closer to her, watching as she evenly leveled the gun at his forehead. "You doubt me. Don't. I won't hesistate, Sark. Just give me a reason to shoot you and I will," she managed to spit out, her voice shaking ever so slightly.  
  
His blue eyes met hers earnestly. "Anna, I did not betray the CIA. I watched the plane explode with Esperanto and then relayed to the CIA what I had seen. I then extracted the information we needed from Esperanto, who told me that Mr. Kirsch here was the key to finding Dresden, the man currently in possession of the artifact. Interestingly enough, Dresden is the only man who can decode it—only he knows what it can do and what it means! So yes, I did remove my tracker as well as the communications link to the CIA. But I had every intention of taking the information I learned from Kirsch—whom, might I had, you told me to go after—and relaying back to the CIA."  
  
"Why break off with the CIA, then, if your big plan was to give all the information to them?" Anna demanded, still keeping her eyes on Kirsch.  
  
Sark chewed on his bottom lip as he realized he was going to have to tell her what had happened with Esperanto. "My methods of extracting what I could from Esperanto were...slightly less than CIA-sanctioned."  
  
"Oh my God," she sighed, closing her eyes for a blinking moment. "You didn't kill him, did you? Tell me you didn't." She took a quick look at Sark's face, which instantly told her the truth. His eyes dropped as Anna started shaking her head, appreciating now that they were deeper into this than she'd thought. "Oh, you did. God damnit, Sark!" He watched intently as she struggled with herself over whether or not to believe him. "How can I trust you...I could lose my job...you could kill me."  
  
"You just have to." Sark took another tentative step towards her.  
  
Kirsch coughed loudly from the ground as he pressed his hands over his knee to slow the bloodflow and Anna and Sark both gave him a fixed stare "I'm sorry to interrupt this heartbreaking moment for the two of you here but-- ,"  
  
"Unless you're about to tell us where Alvin Dresden is, you can stay quiet," Anna interrupted. She bent down to him, resting her weight on her knees as she inspected his gushing wound. "Ouch. Looks like I hit an artery. You know, with blood loss like that, you have very little time unless you get medical assistance. Unfortunately--," she paused, reaching for his cell-phone laying near him, "I'm having trouble remembering the number for emergency services. Refresh my memory."  
  
Kirsch groaned painfully. "You bitch, I should've killed you when--," he sputtered vengefully as he reached fiercely for Anna.  
  
Sark jumped down and pulled on Kirsch's leg, causing more blood to pour out onto the tarmac. Kirsch released his grip on Anna as he writhed in pain, cursing endlessly.  
  
Anna took a moment to catch her breath; she hadn't expected Kirsch to grab her like that. But more than that, she hadn't expected Sark to come to her rescue. Maybe he really hadn't betrayed the CIA. Or maybe he did and was now trying to fake her out by saving her in order to regain her trust. She came to the conclusion that she didn't have any other options. It was Sark, or nothing. Anna suddenly felt extremely light-headed; this was the night that never-ended.  
  
Sark saw Anna begin to sway and he grabbed her arm, balancing her. When she was fine to stand on her own, he once again bent down to Kirsch, who now cowered in fear of him. "If you hurt her in any way and I find out about it, I won't show you the same grace she has. Be assured of that," Sark said maliciously and unaware to Anna. He returned to his normal voice, "Tell us where Dresden is or you will bleed to death. Out here. All alone. Pitiful."  
  
Kirsch moaned again, but resigned himself to spilling the information he knew. "Dresden is in Vegas. The Mirage, room 547," he coughed out.  
  
Anna smiled for the first time that evening. "Thanks, lover." She tossed him back his cellphone and started to walk away. She stopped and turned around, her eyes frighteningly cold. "If you're lying, we'll see eachother again." Her expression softened. "Honestly, Sark, hurry up!"  
  
Sark licked his lips as he ran quickly over to her. He'd really believed she was going to leave him stranded there with Kirsch. "So I guess this means you believe me?"  
  
Anna cocked her head at him, as she got into the driver's seat of the car he'd driven to find Kirsch. "Oh no no. This means that I'm desperate."  
  
Sark slammed the car door shut. "Don't feel bad about it. We all find ourselves in desperation at some point. But you, you're somewhat attractive, and you pull a punch like no one--,"  
  
"So it begins! It's going to be a long trip to Vegas. But you can tell me the whole long, torrid story of tonight on the plane," Anna interjected. But she was grinning.  
  
"I still cannot accept that you had the time to jump from that plane. I mean, I saw the explosion; it was massive. I guess I'm just shocked you didn't get caught in the blast," Sark replied to Anna's story of survival. As she looked down timidly at her hands as they walked along the crowded street, he felt a small shiver of admiration course through him. He was impressed; she had a strong will to survive, despite what they'd both said earlier that night about her carelessness for her life.  
  
Anna gave him a small smile. "I just barely made it! He literally left me for dead. I just--," she stopped, swallowing her words. She took a deep breath, her warm eyes lifting to his. "You all really thought I'd been killed?"  
  
"I saw it and truly thought you'd perished. The CIA, Sydney—everyone thought you were gone."  
  
Anna shook her head, her soft features becoming determined. "I need to call Syd. She's my best friend...she must be s—so...well, I have to contact the CIA too. Kendall will disappointed. I'm in perfect condition, minus a badly bruised knee!"  
  
Sark tilted his head towards her, folding his arms as he slide into a slower pace to accommodate her injury. "Kirsch told me you fought back. You must have gone easy on him, if he was able to get off that plane!"  
  
"Well, I like to save my bag of magic tricks for the finale. You know, don't spend it all in one place!"  
  
He lifted his eyebrows questioningly. "Pardon me?"  
  
"Oh, come on! Even your pompous-ass knows that one." Anna rolled her eyes as she glanced at his blank expression, cringing slightly as her weight shifted accidentally onto her bad knee.  
  
"You're in pain." Sark eyes crinkled into concern as he offered to help her. Anna refused, turning away from him on the congested street just as her knee gave out. She felt her body begin to crumble, the sensation of falling passing over her.  
  
But she didn't fall. "I got you," he said, steadying her with his strong hands. As they were trapped in that second, their bodies posed in the last moment before the end of a dance, with the graceful dip, an electric connection sizzled from one body to the other. Brown eyes met blue. Hands met soft skin. Darkness found light.  
  
The moment passed quickly, though it felt like years to Anna. She calmed herself inwardly and managed to stabilize herself enough to walk. Sark too pulled away and looked anxiously at the beckoning shop signs, from casinos to convenience stores.  
  
"God, Vegas is so tacky," Anna exclaimed, eyeing the bright lights, overblown buildings and eager tourists with disdain as she broke the uncomfortable silence.  
  
Sark glanced up at the Mirage Hotel, nodding his head. "For once, I think we're in agreement.  
  
"Honestly, it's like a big cheese-fest!"  
  
"Cheese-fest? Interesting. I might have to borrow that sometime," Sark said amusedly, following her through the entrance of the hotel and casino.  
  
Anna rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "Ok, so we know how this is going down, right? We'll nab Dresden and then return to the CIA and explain everything. We'll clear your name." Anna bit her lip nervously, realizing she said "we". Though she hadn't turned him into the CIA automatically, she wasn't entirely ready to admit to him, or to herself, that she wanted to believe his innocence. More than ever, she was beginning to doubt her judgment.  
  
But as she looked at his handsome, angular face, she realized that maybe it was time to stop the dichotomies, the binarisms. For some people, it was a way of living: to be on one side or the other, to think in terms of either- or. It made life simpler. There was the good and the bad and there was little doubt or confusion. But she'd nearly died and this time, she'd truly seen that there were more than two sides to living. Sometimes you had to take risks and chances, no matter how scary they seemed.  
  
"I doubt they'll believe you--," Sark interrupted, pressing the elevator button.  
  
"It will work out. Trust me!," she answered simply.  
  
His brow furrowed as her words swam in his mind. No, he thought, there was no time for this. "Okay, 547, welcome." Sark started to make his way over to the door, squinting at the bolt on the door. "Can you pick this lock? I'm not familiar with this type."  
  
Anna crept to the door, silencing him with her eyes and knocked. "Housekeeping." No answer. "First thing, love. Don't just go picking locks. We could have just had our heads blown off. Second thing. Can I pick a lock? Can I pick a lock!" Anna grabbed a hair pin from her pocket and was able to open the door within 8 seconds. She smirked up at Sark. "And people criticize junevile detention centers. I mean, really. Oh, I'm kidding. You need to lighten up."  
  
They stepped into the hotel room, finding it completely devoid of personal items, except for a laptop resting on the coffee table in the center of the room.  
  
Sark opened the top, noting that the computer was on. He whistled as he looked at what was on the screen. "You can stop searching, Anna. Dresden's imbeciles left their email open and it's all here. Our man is currently about to aboard a ship in the Caribbean for a short cruise. And guess what he has with him?"  
  
Anna plopped down on the sofa beside Sark, peering at the computer screen. "What? We've got to go! Now!"  
  
"Calm down there--,"  
  
"I'm not going to calm down! That man is getting away with the artifact!"  
  
"Listen!" Sark raised his voice, trying to make her understand. "Yes, Dresden has it. But Sloane does not know where he is. This is an email from Dresden to his men here, informing them that he not only has the artifact but was sent the codes by Sloane. Apparently, Dresden does not inform Sloane of his location for his own protection. So, we're actually ahead of Sloane."  
  
Anna inhaled, her cheeks reddening from her outburst. "We need to get on that cruise and steal the artifact when he's finished doing whatever it is that needs to be done," she finished, gesturing wildly with her hands. She jumped up from her seat, forcing herself to ignore the throbbing pain in her knee. "We should go."  
  
"Let's just read this one more time to get the location right" Sark replied wisely. The both memorized the cruise and ship names, phone numbers and exact location.  
  
Anna felt a cool tingle spread down her back. "We've been made," she whispered, sensing the presence of others in the hotel room.  
  
No sooner than her words, two heavily armed men began yelling at them in German to put their hands up and get on their knees. Anna began to lower herself to the ground, looking pointedly at Sark.  
  
He caught her glance, hurling the vase from the table behind him at one of the men while Anna was able to grab her knife from her ankle and throw it into the shoulder of the other man. The latter's gun hit the floor in a barrage of bullets as Anna and Sark scurried out of the room, kicking the other gun a safe distance from either of the guys.  
  
"This is not good," commented Anna, seeing three other gun-toting men coming from one end of the hallway. Sark hurriedly pressed the elevator button, sighing, relieved, when the doors opened, a sweet-looking elderly couple inside.  
  
The elevator shut just as the men reached them, firing several rounds into the heavy, bullet-proof doors. Anna innocently at the horrified faces of the old man and woman. "Yeah...some people are just too lazy to go down the stairs."  
  
Sark stifled a laugh, taking a few seconds to regain his strength. By now, the men from the fifth floor would probably have noticed the elevator was heading to the first floor and would be awaiting their arrival. "Excuse men , sir, "Sark began to the elderly man, eyeing his jacket. "How attached are you to that coat?"  
  
"Hurry, in here!" Anna said to Sark, pushing open the doors to a large, brightly lit wedding chapel. The men were searching the entire ground floor for them, and had been a little defeated by their costume changes. Sark was now sporting a worn jacket that was short in the sleeves and a backwards hat he'd swiped as they "casually" passed the gift shop. Anna wore the sweater she'd had tied around her waist and a pair of classic, Audrey Hepburn-esque sunglasses, her hair piled messily on her head.  
  
Glancing quickly at the mesh wall coverings and huge, plastic fluroescent flowers, Sark couldn't help but utter, "Jesus--,"  
  
"Just come on!" She pulled on his arm tightly, her expression frantic. "In case you didn't notice, those guys had guns. Big ones. And I just like to take a sec to point out that we have nothing! Nothing! Not to mention, I can't exactly run here!"  
  
The reverend at the head of the altar narrowed his eyes at them, silently willing them to be quiet. Shaking his head, he turned back to the couple before him, looking wildly excited in their rather odd outfits that adhered to an animal-printed Western theme. "I know pronounce you husband and wife." The man and woman looked at eachother moonily as the reverend slammed his bible shut and whipped out a receipt from his robe. "And that's $49.95 at the front desk please. Ooh and don't forget your already signed license. Next!" he bellowed loudly, peering at the few nervous looking couples huddling around the front desk.  
  
An Asian man and his soon-to-be bride, complete with a 70s style rented veil, apprehensively creeped up the aisle. Anna and Sark spun around, still uncertain of where to go, and figuring that they had about 30 seconds before the two beefy men exploded into the tiny chapel. The chapel doors banged open and the two managed to hide their heads before they were seen, luckily blocked by the Asian couple, who were looking confusedly at Anna and Sark.  
  
Anna snuck a look from the corners of her eyes, and seeing that they were checking the entrance, grabbed the bride's veil and slammed it on her own head. "Go," she whispered, rather harshly to the reverend. The woman touched her now bare hair and stuck her head between Anna and Sark, her eyes going back and forth questioningly. "Yeah....no. Thanks for the veil," Anna said quietly. "But you can be our witnesses....just stand a little to the left...no a little more...yes, perfect!"  
  
Sark, looking mildly worried, started in on her, as he was not quite sure what her big plan was. "Anna—,"  
  
"Shut up, will you! We don't actually have to get married! We just need to be covered. Relax!" Anna insisted, trying to keep her voice low and resist the urge to see where the men were. She stared straight at the reverend "Say something!"  
  
"Sorry, I'm not—I mean, do you want to be married or not?" The reverend asked, opening and shutting his bible.  
  
Sark could hear the guards approaching down the aisle, looking in every pew, their footsteps heavy. "Bloody hell, they're nearly here," he whispered into Anna's ear.  
  
"Can you see them yet?" Anna adjusted the veil to better cover her face, bending towards him so their conversation was private. The minister tapped his watch impatiently.  
  
"Yes," Sark said in a normal voice, turning his face towards her, as one of the men stealthy approached from the left.  
  
"Alright then...if you're sure," The minister decided, putting on his glasses and reopening his bible. "Oops, before I forget, I need some identification and your signatures."  
  
Sark tossed his and Anna's I.D.s into his bible, keeping his head down and cursing the Asian couple who were twitting back and forth as they argued over what Anna and Sark had done. He couldn't hear a thing.  
  
"And sign here and here..." the reverend continued leisurely.  
  
"Perfect. Keep your head down. Don't look up!" Anna murmured, her eyes blazing as she easily signed her name.  
  
"Look who doubts who, now. Brilliant plan. They are going to find us, you realize that don't you," Sark muttered back, distractedly putting down his own signature.  
  
Anna tilted her head ever so slightly to glare at him. "Well, your plans haven't always turned out perfectly, now have they?"  
  
"...to unite this man and this woman in Holy matrimony..."  
  
"Not perfectly. But they were better than this one, which is going to end up with us being identified by our dental records!" Sark hissed back. Both glowered at the other, unnoticed by the reverend, who carried on with his business.  
  
Anna listened carefully, hearing the carpet crunch with approaching footsteps. "This is all your fault! You never know what the hell you're supposed to be doing!  
  
"I do--," he was interrupted by Anna lowered, though volatile voice.  
  
"Don't even start." "Why must you be so controlling all the time?"  
  
"You mean rational?"  
  
"No, I'm fairly certain I meant controlling, domineering....insufferable!" Sark exclaimed harshly.  
  
Anna's eyes widened as she plotted her response, neither of them hearing the chapel door slam open again. "I'm insufferable! That's hilarious...You're the one--,"  
  
"No, you're the one with the unbearable attitude of superiority, who always tries to impress others with your incredible plans and ideas!!!! Only not so much this time! Or any time!"  
  
"I so do--," Anna was distracted with the loud sound of the bible clapping shut between the reverend's hands. "I so don't try to impress...wait, do you hear anything?"  
  
"No...do you think they're gone? This may have worked..."  
  
Anna took a deep, hopeful breath. "Then you'll owe me a big, fat thank you. I'm going to turn around...ready?"  
  
Anna spun around to the front of the chapel slowly, and exhaled with relief when she saw that the men had left. Her plan had worked! She turned back to Sark, hands on her hips and eyes piercing his expectantly, "Now what was that you were saying?"  
  
Sark opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as the minister reached down and joined his and Anna's hands, which they both jerked back. "Wait, what are you doing?" Anna looked at the minister inquisitively.  
  
He raised his eyebrows and stared at Anna as though she had another head growing out of her neck. "Umm...pronouncing you husband and wife, clearly." He glanced at Sark, his eyes sympathetic. "By...the power...invested in me...I...now...pronounce you husband and wife," he said slowly, nodding his head at each pause. "And that's $49.95 at the front desk. Tell your friends."  
  
A/N: ;) 


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry about the wait, guys! But this is an extraordinarily long chapter! I've changed the cruise from the Caribbean to the Mediteranean.! ( Oh, and don't mind if I make up some laws (  
  
"Say what?"  
  
The minister looked helplessly at Sark, casting his eyes obviously over to Anna. "You. Are. Now. Married."  
  
"I'm going to be sick," Anna said, her complexion deathly white as she stumbled back a step and clutched onto one of the chairs just off the aisle.  
  
Sark's eyes widened as he moved forward, making sure he'd heard the man correctly. "What? No. That's not possible."  
  
"Oh. My. God. Oh. My. God," she kept repeating in the background, now sitting dejectedly in one of the chairs.  
  
"Anna—calm down. It's just not possible. Neither one of said the words, let alone agreed to it!" Sark said rationally, though he was privately rattled by the reverend's words.  
  
The minister coughed loudly and noticeably tapped at his watch. "Excuse me, uh, sir. Actually you did agree. I asked you whether or not you wanted to be married. The two of you discussed and answered 'yes'."  
  
"That wasn't to you!" Sark was now getting frustrated, shooting glances from Anna to the minister.  
  
The minister rolled his eyes but leaned forward to speak conspiratorally with Sark. "Listen, sir, I understand your...hesitation to be married...to her...but you both said 'I do' and there were no objections."  
  
"Bloody hell, we didn't mean it—,"  
  
"And the marriage license was signed. Hence, you two are now married," the minister summed up, his eyes shifting down the aisle towards the next couple, clearly through talking to Anna and Sark. "Next!"  
  
Anna sprang from her chair, an idea having popped into her head. "Listen, why don't you just rip up the paper and we'll forget this ever happened!"  
  
The minister looked appalled. "I am a man of God, miss!"  
  
"You marry people for $50 a pop! Christ, you'd probably marry that man over there to his dog!" Anna snapped back, incredulous.  
  
"Ugh!" He breathed, offended at her insult. "Step aside, please!"  
  
"Annul it, then!" barked Anna, elbowing the Asian couple trying to move forward out of the way. Sark gave them an apologetic look.  
  
"I can't do that. This is a valid marriage."  
  
"I'm with the CIA," Anna threw out, growing increasingly desperate. She was now practically hovering on top of the reverend, while Sark watched, slightly amused, despite the seriousness of the situation.  
  
The reverend just laughed off her comment as he looked over her head, signaling that their conversation was over.  
  
Anna sort of deflated and turned to walk down the aisle, as though she was giving up. The minister called out "Good luck" to Sark, which just barely reached her ears. She doubled back, lunging at the man of God with all her strength.  
  
Sark grabbed her by the waist, yanking her off the minister. "She's just a little emotional," he said to the shocked bystanders.  
  
"Did you hear that?! What a jackass! Yeah, Jesus SO DOESN'T LOVE YOU!" Anna yelled back as they slammed through the chapel doors. Suddenly losing all her energy, she flopped down on a rickety wooden bench. "This isn't happening."  
  
Sark grimaced. "Unfortunately, I think it is."  
  
Anna kept on talking, as though she'd never heard him. "I'm dead. Worse than dead. The CIA is going to crucify me when they find out--,"  
  
"Who says they have to know? We'll just get this thing annulled as soon as viably possible." He folded up the marriage license and put it in his back pocket. Hopefully, they wouldn't need to hold onto that for much longer.  
  
"It can take years to have an annulment. It's not like it'll be over tomorrow." She stared at the chapel doors, her eyes glassy. This was a nightmare. Of all the things that possibly could've happened, why did it have to be this? They were....married. Anna couldn't even fathom that word. Married.  
  
Now, she wasn't a very traditional person but she'd always had these romantic views of marriage, compliments of her parents. Anna had grown up in a home where marriage had bound the souls of her parents together tightly. Despite occasional rifts, her parents had loved eachother truly and warmly, and when her mother had died, it was like she lost a part of her father as well. Anna had learned that marriage was more than a piece of paper, it was an intimate, intense connection and when she was a little girl, she couldn't wait to have her chance at it. But now that she was...married...Anna just wanted it to disappear, along with her so-called husband.  
  
She tossed him a side-long glance, his elbows casually resting on the back of the bench, his expression entirely calm. He was, though it pained her to say it, undeniably goodlooking; tall, lean, riddled with hidden strengths. And those eyes. Alarming blue eyes that just shot through her, like stepping out into the cold after being inside. And it was true also that Sark was interesting and kept her spinning in a way that no else ever had.  
  
But he was still Julian Sark. He'd been Number 2 on the CIA's Most-Wanted list until his capture and he was still held in high-suspicion by the Agency, despite his cooperation. He'd committed crimes that Anna could not even begin to accept both as an agent and as a human being.  
  
Not to mention that'd she'd spent enough time with him in a work atmosphere. Now he was a part of her life.  
  
"Should we have signed a pre-nuptial agreement?" Sark teased, grinning.  
  
Anna swatted his shoulder, emerging from her self-pity. "How can you joke about this?!"  
  
"Listen, there's nothing we can do. We can't annul it right now so why worry about it?" Sark stood up, running a hand along his face. Inwardly, he was still overcome with shock.  
  
"Easy for you to say. You didn't just commit treason against your country!"  
  
"Aren't you being a touch overdramatic?" Sark began to walk casually along the crowded street.  
  
Anna ran to catch up to him. "Easy for you to say—you did it all the time, before I brought you into custody."  
  
"Details." He snuck an arm around her shoulder as they walked. "So let's just handle this sometime in the near future and just focus on Dresden for now, wife."  
  
"Don't touch me." Anna pushed his arm off of her and walked slightly ahead of him.  
  
"Fabulous start. We'll be in marital therapy in no time!"  
  
Anna tossed her hair, giving him a once-over. "I can't believe you're not even worried. We just got married. Married!"  
  
"Oh, I don't deny that this is a complete nightmare but it's definitely worse for you than me. But ultimately, things could have turned out much, much worse for both of us," Sark added, trying to lighten the tension. "We could be riddled with bullets."  
  
"That I might just prefer." Anna glanced at the ground. It finally hit her. Hard. She was legally married to Julian Sark with no quick way out of it. "Crap."  
  
----  
  
The first thing Anna decided to do once they reached their final destination for the night was to call her best friend. They'd decided to stay overnight in Vegas and have a passable amount of sleep before heading back to Europe for the cruise. She had to tell Sydney what had happened and she figured now was the best time, as she'd finally settled down a bit from the shock of...yeah, that.  
  
Anna dialed the familiar number. It was Syd's secret cellphone, one that the CIA did not, or could not tap. "Syd...Syd, it's me," Anna said steadily into the phone.  
  
Anna heard her friend gasp loudly. "Oh my—how? When? Thank God. I really thought—I mean really, I-I...Sark said...,"  
  
"Whoa, Syd, sit down. I'll tell you everything, I swear," Anna interjected, close to tears now. Sydney was her best friend and it was obvious how much she cared for Anna. "But you've got chill out or else Fran will be in there so fast, you know how she thrives on drama!"  
  
Sydney gave a small laugh, slightly confounded by her crying. "Nah, it's alright. I hadn't told her yet. I guess I was just hoping...I mean, things were so up in the air. No one knew what happened except for that son-of-a- bitch Sark. Clearly, you know he betrayed the CIA, as you've been stranded. We'll get him, Anna, I promise."  
  
Anna hesitated, realizing clearing Sark would be a tougher job than she'd anticipated but she knew that if Sydney Bristow was on her side, she had a much higher chance of success. "Actually Syd, I already have him. He's here with me."  
  
"How? What's going on? Is he holding you?" Sydney's voice grew sharper over the phone.  
  
"No, no, it's nothing like that. I'd traced Kirsch and Sark had the other device linked to the tracker so he caught up to Kirsch and that's when I showed up. I'd jumped from the plane right before it exploded."  
  
"Oh, my God," Sydney breathed.  
  
"There's more. Sark told me he'd intended to get the information from Kirsch and give it to the CIA—of course, whether or not he would actually follow through, I don't know but I trusted him anyway—,"  
  
"Anna, no. You can't trust him. He's nothing but evil," her friend tried to warn her.  
  
"Syd! Stop!" Anna said, her tone exasperated. "I had no other choices. I was injured, could barely walk. What was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Get yourself back here!"  
  
"And what? Let Sloane just continue to be one step ahead of us? Syd, he has destroyed enough lives and the last thing I'm going to let him do is hold the Rambaldi artifact, which could have horrible consequences for you," Anna argued, her voice raising slightly.  
  
"Forget about it. Don't worry about me! You should be worried about the fact that you're in the company of a man who would do anything to get to that artifact. He'd kill you. He will," Sydney insisted, keeping her voice low.  
  
"I am not a child. I know he can't be completely trusted. But why not use him?!" Anna paused, before continuing in a softer voice, "Syd, I know you're just concerned. Don't be. I can handle this."  
  
"So that's the whole story, then?" Sydney interrogated.  
  
Anna gulped. Not exactly. There was that teeny little matter of her marriage. "Yes, that's all," she lied, feeling despicable. She couldn't tell Sydney that she and Sark had accidentally gotten married, especially after Syd had just flipped out over the fact that she was in the company of Sark.  
  
"Fine. You just said you could 'handle this'. Handle what, exactly?"  
  
"We have a lead, from Kirsch, on the location for the artifact that was supposed to have been on the plane," Anna clarified, though omitting the details.  
  
"Where are you going? Does the CIA know?"  
  
"No. You're the first contact I've made. And the last."  
  
Sydney was silent for a moment, carefully choosing her words. "You have to notify Kendall or else he will seriously kill you. After you've been arrested for treason, of course."  
  
"Syd, I'm coming back. Just not until I have the artifact in my hands. I need you now. You're—You're my best friend, the only person who truly knows me, who has been there throughout everything," her voice broke, as she struggled to fight back tears. "You know that I can do this."  
  
"I know," Sydney agreed, her tone emotion-filled. "What do you need?"  
  
"I need you to tell Kendall all I've told you. I've left out the details to protect you and so that the CIA won't be able to botch this mission for me. I will get to it before Sloane, I promise you."  
  
"Anna, I know you will. How long will you be gone?" Sydney asked, finally coming to the conclusion that she had to put her faith and confidence in her friend.  
  
"A couple of weeks. Will you tell Fran that I got called to another trip? Tell her I'm sorry about missing our spa-day; we'll reschedule. But listen, I've got to go."  
  
"Anna?"  
  
Anna swallowed. "Yeah?"  
  
"Be careful. Love you," Sydney managed to choke out.  
  
"Love you too." Anna smiled, even though Sydney couldn't see her. "Bye." She hung up the phone just as Sark came out of the washroom, his hair still damp from a shower.  
  
"So, you explained everything?" he asked, walking over to rest in one of the chairs and popping open a can of gingerale.  
  
"Yeah..." she said slowly, collapsing on the bed.  
  
Sark lifted his eyebrows. "So she knows, then? About...the...the--,"  
  
Anna visibly cringed. "Don't say it. Please God, don't use that word. I'm still holding out that this is really a dream...we're not really—well, you know..."  
  
"Married?"  
  
Anna sat up suddenly. "I think I just threw up a little in my mouth."  
  
Sark leaned forward, waving something in his hands. "Believe it, sweetheart. You've got to accept it. Would you like to take a look at this marriage license again?"  
  
"You're giving me a headache."  
  
Sark jumped up from his chair. "Hey, Anna. Now that we're, well, you know, husband and wife, does this mean that we can share the bed?" Sark asked, trying to be semi-serious as he fought back a grin, standing beside the large bed.  
  
Anna glared at him and threw a pillow at his chest. "This actually can't get any worse, can it? I mean, soon Kendall is going to reveal that he's really a transvestite with a super-huge crush on Jack Bristow." She flopped dejectedly on the bed, pulling off her navy sweater to reveal a simple white tank-top. "If the CIA finds out, I'll probably lose my job, Sydney won't forgive me...and here I am, stuck with you."  
  
"And married," Sark added micheviously, his accent playful. He settled down on the floor and attempted to get comfortable, putting his hands under his head.  
  
She rolled to a sitting up position and looked rather unimpressed. "That word is forbidden!" she replied slowly, rubbing her temples as though that word gave her a headache. "I'm going to go drown myself in the tub now." Anna made her way to the bathroom, seeming as though she was in a different world. She pointed towards Sark as she whirled around. "Don't go anywhere. I'm believing that you're going to stay here because well...whatever." She shut the bathroom door and leaned against it, completely and utterly exhausted. This had been the longest and most gruelling 48 hours of her life; with only two hours rest on the plane, she wasn't just tired physically but emotionally too. So much had happened and she hadn't even had a chance yet to just absorb it all.  
  
Sighing, she splashed some water on her face, enjoying the cool sensation on her skin. Anna examined herself in the mirror critically, noticing tired lines around her eyes and a blotchy complexion. "I look hideous," she whispered to herself. But it wasn't just her appearance that was worn; Anna felt dry, as though every drop of emotion had been shaken from her. She'd been the closest she'd ever came to death and then there was that whole mysterious vial of blood labeled with her name. Then, there was the instant when she truly believed Sark had betrayed her and the CIA. For some reason, that had been like a punch to the stomach. She wanted more than anything to believe that he had turned from his old ways and it frightened her. Each moment they spent together, she found herself more drawn to Sark in ways not sanctioned by the CIA. Oh, and now they were married.  
  
Anna pressed her forehead against the mirror, wondering how she was going to get out of this mess. More than anything, she wanted to cry, to shed her emotions. But something blocked her from this ability and all she felt was coldness. Sydney had once said something about being afraid to lose the ability to feel, to suddenly be unaffected by the circumstances of life and as Anna watched her overtly calm, reflection, her eyes betrayed that fear.  
  
Sark, meanwhile, had turned out the lights, his white-button down half- undone as he laid on the plush-carpeted floor. The events of the last two days blurred in his mind. More than anything, he was still in awe of the fact that he and Anna Parker were technically and legally married.  
  
Though, he was slightly amused by this twist in events, he was also horrified. Sark had just become the husband of a woman who was completely unhinged. Anna Parker was one of the most disjointed, unreasonable and insensible people he'd ever known, let alone worked with. And now he was legally bound to her in a tie that would not be easily severed.  
  
But for all of her quirks, she was also one of the most exquisite beauties ever to cross his path. And even though, she nearly drove him mad with her plans and ideas, he was infatuated with her intelligence and brilliant, creative mind. Not to mention, that she was unnervingly funny, unintentionally of course.  
  
And so he thought of his new wife...it was going to be an adjustment to correlate Anna and 'wife', he thought. Still, his thoughts of his wife were surprisingly pleasant, minus his firm belief that part of her was literally crazy, and he supposed that if he must be married, better Anna than someone else, say, Bristow, for example. That woman would kill him in his sleep, for sure!  
  
Sark was tired. His body was tired and his mind was tired. He was married, what was the big deal, he wondered, as he drifted to sleep, his mind knowing the answer.  
  
-----  
  
Anna turned the lights off in bathroom as she opened the door and entered the darkened room. She couldn't see anything, her eyes still blinking from the bright lights of the bathroom. She struggled to find her way back to the bed, tripping over something hard that sent her crashing to the floor. Well, not exactly an object.  
  
"Ouch," cried a deep voice.  
  
Anna screamed, completely forgetting that there was someone else sharing the room with her. Her chest heaved as she realized she'd fallen on Sark. "Oh, God. It's just you." She lifted herself a little, her hands on his bare, hard chest, as she got a better look at his sleepy eyes and crazy, bedhead hair. She rested there for a moment, feeling a sort of peace for the first time in weeks.  
  
"Who the bloody hell else would it be?" he asked groggily, well aware of her hands touching his skin. She didn't move at all, and for a second, he wondered if she was sleepwalking or ill or something.  
  
Her sad eyes beckoned him to her and as he opened his mouth to ask if she was alright, her fingers flew to his lips, clearly desiring silence.  
  
Slowly, she arose from his warm body to a sitting position, and he followed her movement, their bodies flowing in an easy rhythm. He glanced at her, watching her damp hair fall around her face and nearly bare shoulders, one of the straps of her tank-top fallen, and her flushed skin, still feeling the effects of the hot shower, a light smile playing upon her lips. Except for her eyes. In the depths of brown, he could see her heart and soul cowering. Nonetheless, she was stunning in every sense of the word.  
  
Anna moved closer to him, one hand undoing the remaining few buttons of his shirt and pulling it off his shoulders. He didn't question, nor try to hinder her. She slid her hands up his smooth chest, feeling his muscles contract as she did so, until she reached his shoulders, running her hands over the sinewy strengths of his body. Anna needed to touch, to feel something real.  
  
Sark, too, reached his hands out to touch her. His thumbs caressed her cheeks gently.  
  
Unexpectedly, Anna led them to the floor, her face protected in the crook between his neck and shoulders. He held her in his arms, not sure if he was imagining the heat emanating from her body or if it was just the desire throbbing in his hands. A shiver ran through him as her deliciously fruity scent wafted over him, alerting his senses even more.  
  
Her lips grazed just a thread from the sensitive area of his neck. "It's been so long," she breathed. She hadn't been close to a man in what seemed like forever. And it wasn't that she needed a man to survive and be happy, but Anna just needed, and wanted, someone to be there for her, to comfort her. Someone to hold her.  
  
And as she moved to her head to lay further down on his chest, he realized what she needed now. "It's alright," he whispered into her sweet-smelling hair, rubbing her soft arms.  
  
And finally, the tears of suppressed emotion began to fall on his chest, as Anna's body heaved with light sobs.  
  
----  
  
Sark awoke, groggily surprised to see Anna sprawled beside him, her hand on his flat stomach. His mind took a moment to recall the events hours earlier, as he watched her breathe evenly, her chest heaving gently. Her lips were lightly parted, her skin flawlessly fresh, even in the depths of sleep.  
  
More than anything, he was in awe of his own response to her emotional 'breakdown', if one could call it that. Though Sark was rather certain that cold blood flowed through his veins, even he, as a man, could recognize that Anna had been under tremendous stress and that there was no feasible way that she could contain it. However, he didn't expect that he'd be the vessel through which she would do it. And he certainly didn't anticipate the comforting, caring role he'd played. Never in his life had been so thoughtful and so completely...unselfish. True, he'd played the nice guy to girlfriends in the past but that was more or less an act, something Sark had forced himself to play. But with Anna this evening, it had come naturally. He knew what she needed instinctively. Strange.  
  
Without moving too much as to not wake Anna, he strained his neck to see the clock. It was just after 8 in the morning! He squinted, making sure that was the right time, which it was. For what seemed like the millionth time in a few days, Sark was surprised, this time at the fact that'd he slept straight through the night. Typically, he was prone to waking up several times a night and unlimited restlessness. Even with Allison, her arms jailing him, he'd never been able to completely settle down and cede his mind to sleep; he was always pacing, always thinking and considering.  
  
Sark shook his head and disentangled himself from Anna, rising to get up. Forget Allison. He sat on the bed for moment, watching as she rolled over onto her side, her hands tucked under her head sweetly. Was she dreaming, he wondered, and of what?  
  
Ultimately, he decided that pondering Anna Parker would take more time than he had in his life. Not to mention, he had somewhere to go before she woke up.  
  
----  
  
She heard the door unlock and quietly positioned herself behind it. Anna had woken up alone this morning well-rested, her heart full. But when she'd discovered she was alone and that Sark was nowhere to found, she'd felt herself reverse into her old guarded, cool persona.  
  
One. Two. Three. She jumped out and, having the element of surprise, threw the assailant to the ground, stealthily aiming her gun at his face. The man was on his knees, his arms held out, surrendering.  
  
"Where have you been?" Anna screeched, feeling the blood pound in her ears. It was Sark. "I trusted you! I told you not to leave! What did you do?"  
  
"It was something I had to do. It wasn't like I had a choice--," he began to explain softly.  
  
"What's that behind your back?" she demanded angrily. How could this be happening? After last night?  
  
His bright eyes flickered. "Before I show you there's something you need to know..."  
  
Anna tried to keep her body from visibly quivering. She had to be cool. This was what she'd been trained for! "Just show it!"  
  
Sark slowly held out a paper-bag to her. "I hope you didn't want ketchup. I forgot it. I know how you Americans are about your ketchup!" The smell of hot food wafted into the room. His face broke out into a smile and he began to laugh as Anna just stared at him in disbelief.  
  
She collapsed onto the bed, feeling her body slow down once again. "Breakfast. You got us food!"  
  
"I had to do it. I was completely famished." He grinned at her, placing the bag on the table. "Honestly, though, you've got to relax."  
  
She ignored his comment, still looking suspiciously at him. "So that's all, then? Why should I believe you?"  
  
Sark ran a hand through his hair. "This doubt of my intentions is beginning to become bothersome. Why can't you accept that I'm no longer who I once was?"  
  
Anna stood up, pulling a hooded sweatshirt over her head. "I have no other choices but you. But know this—I will always question your loyalty. People don't just change over night."  
  
His eyes flicked to hers and connected for a brief, but intense second. "They do if they meet the right person." Unknowingly to the other, both their minds drifted to the previous night. Neither one dared mention it, though, especially to Anna's relief. She didn't really understand her motives for turning to him last night, let alone explain them to the very man she'd just claimed she would never trust.  
  
Anna spun slightly, preparing to grab the rest of her things from the bathroom. They needed to leave as soon as possible to make the cruise. She felt her knee give out, still sore from jumping from Kirsch's plane. "Oh, oww!" She yelped in pain, reaching out to grab hold of the dresser. "Oh..."  
  
Sark came to her side and helped to one of the chairs at the small, round table. "There's got to be something around here that we can use to bring down the swelling. We need ice." He looked around, searching for the ice bucket, seeing it tossed on the floor as a makeshift garbage disposal. "Be right back!" He hurried from the room, returning within a minute with a bucket full of ice and a small Ziploc bag. "One of the maids gave it to me. You know, I worked my charms."  
  
"So you paid her?" Anna remarked cattily, though she was smiling.  
  
"Hysterical. You're actually hysterical. Drop the CIA and work on your comedy act!" Sark answered, piling ice into the Ziploc.  
  
She gasped as the icy sensation touched her inflamed knee. Sark leaned past her, and she could smell the gentle scent of his cologne, as he removed a tensor bandage from the First-Aid kit on lying carelessly on the table. Anna had forgotten how intoxicating the scent of the opposite sex could be.  
  
Sark expertly wound the bandage around her knee, one hand at her thigh steadying his movements. Her body screamed at the pressure on her leg and for the second time in 24 hours, she realized how long it'd been since she'd been with a man. But this time...her desires were more raw, more physical. It'd been too long.  
  
"It's like riding a bike. Isn't that the expression you Americans always use? You just don't forget how to do it!"  
  
Anna's head shot up, looking rather alarmed. "What?" His words broke her spell. Was he reading her mind? Did he know her thoughts?  
  
Sark looked at her pointedly. "First-Aid. You just...remember it all even though you don't use it all the time?"  
  
She nodded emphatically, feeling relieved. "Totally, yeah." Anna bit her lip, deciding whether or not to tell him about her find in Kirsch's airplane.  
  
"There. I hope that's not too restricting." He interrupted her inner debate, patting the bandage in place gently. Sark moved back on the end of the bed, looking up at her questioningly. "What is it?"  
  
"What?" Anna distractedly brushed off his question, moving around him to sit cross-legged facing his back.  
  
He swirled around, his eyes boring into hers. "Seriously, Anna, say it."  
  
She held up her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine! But this is strictly between you and me--,"  
  
"Aww, it's like our first marital bond," Sark said, smirking.  
  
Anna's eyes drew smaller and she tossed her hair haughtily. "I hate you. Have I said that yet today?"  
  
Sark grinned. "At least three times already...but seriously, tell me. I mean, think of all the CIA rules and regulations you've blown past already! One more is nothing."  
  
"Alright, alright. Just stop the chatter. Have you always been this...talkative. I prefer evil, sullen Sark," retorted Anna, faking a sweet smile.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," he answered coolly, winking at her.  
  
"Oh, good God. Anyway, so when I was on Kirsch's plane, looking for the nukes, I found something completely insane. I have no idea what this means," she confided, leaning over to pull the vial of blood labeled with her name from her jacket and handed it to him.  
  
Sark fingered it for a moment before his eyes scanned the label. "Anna Parker." His forehead furrowed in confusion. "What does this mean?"  
  
"That's what I've been wondering. I'd never even heard of this man before last week and he was carrying my blood? It just doesn't make sense. Not to mention it's just plain creepy!" Anna clasped her hands together and rested her chin on them, her brown eyes softening in vulnerability as she looked closely at him. "Do you know anything about this? Anything?"  
  
"Anna, no. I'm as clueless as you are concerning this."  
  
She sighed deeply. "I didn't tell Syd about it. Between Rambaldi, that stupid prophecy, and her fugitive mother, I figured that she really doesn't need to deal with this right now." Anna looked down at her socks, picking off bits of lint. "Besides...it's probably just a coincidence...means nothing," she added, trying to sound nonchalant.  
  
"I'm sure it is," Sark agreed softly. He glanced at her nervously biting her lip. "It's nothing to be concerned about."  
  
Anna gave a small smile, though strained on her gentle features. "Anyway, we should probably get going. Another plane ride..what fun!" Her voice had returned to normal, her expression devoid of any insecurity or fear.  
  
----  
  
"That was the longest trip ever," Anna complained as the taxi drove up to the dock. The cruise was to board at Cyprus and then travel along the Mediterannean Sea, stopping at various cities and towns along the way.  
  
Sark nodded, unsmiling. "That child infront of us reminded me why, in many cases, I'm against procreation."  
  
Anna laughed. "It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't have decided that spitting his macaroni at us would be a fun way to pass the time! Oh God, that was so funny when he hit you right in the face. You know, the pasta- cheese combination really worked with your skin-tone!"  
  
"It's funny for those omitted from the experience! This is it, I think." The taxi driver stopped the car and Sark took a couple of bills, saying "Σας ευαριστοÏμε." (Thank You) Anna was impressed, raising her eyebrows as she stepped out the car, clutching her bags. "You speak Greek?" "There are plenty of things you do not know about me. But yes, I'm fluent in Greek, amongst other languages," he replied cockily. "Aren't you?" "υσικÎ¬ (Of course)," she said, her eyes flashing. They started to walk over to where passengers were being let on to the ship, hearing a variety of languages, though most of the signs were in English. "It's beautiful out here," exclaimed Anna, gazing at the coastline full of rich blues and greens. "See, Parker, it might not be so bad—sometimes things just work to a--," "Sark...why does that sign say "The Magic of Marriage Cruise: Sailing Through Therapy"?" Anna interrupted warily.  
  
Sark grimaced at the bright, cheerful banner as he took it in. "Goody. It appears that this cruise has a theme. Looks like we can start our therapy early after all!"  
  
"Oh. Holy. Jesus." Anna turned away quickly, prepared to forget about the entire mission. "Time to go!"  
  
He grabbed her elbow, pulling her back infront of him. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Abso-freakin'-lutely. There is no way in hell I'm pretending to be married to you!" she exclaimed heatedly, glaring at him.  
  
He yanked her closer to him, casually smiling at an older couple about to board the ship as he did so. The elderly woman gazed at them fondly, commenting, "So young, so passionate...just can't keep their hands off one another," to her husband.  
  
Anna plastered a tight smile on her face, clenching her teeth. "Let go of me. We're leaving!"  
  
"Few things first, darling. Firstly, you're willing to cede everything we've fought for because you don't want to play charades? I refuse to believe that after all of this, you're just going to let Sloane, a man you claim to hate, go!" he hissed into her ear, his expression completely relaxed, despite his intense words.  
  
She kept her head high, staring right at him. "And the second thing?"  
  
Sark released her arm, holding out his instead and taking her bag with his free hand. "We're already married. We need not pretend!"  
  
Anna made a face at him. "Oh, isn't that a persuasive touch!" But she grudgingly took his arm, realizing that he was right. She couldn't let Sloane win so easily. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."  
  
"You in a passably good mood? I wouldn't dream of it," Sark shot back at her as they walked over to the registration desk.  
  
"Bite me," she sang softly, before readjusting her features to seriousness. "So luckily, I was able to get us spaces on this cruise under Anna and Julian Parker—,"  
  
Sark lips curled into a wry smile. "How modern of you."  
  
"Hey, I'm in charge here and it's bad enough we're, you know...," Anna paused, averting her eyes and coughing. "Married, or whatever," she continued rushedly, "And there is no way we could ever go under your name, both for personal and professional reasons! But identities aren't a big deal. No one has any clue where we are. In fact, I'm pretty sure the CIA still thinks we're in Europe."  
  
"They always were falling behind!" Sark said.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"I didn't mean you. You're clearly the best the CIA has," he complimented.  
  
"Marriage has done wonders for your temperament, darling." Anna smiled at the elderly couple at the check-in table. Time to act. "Hi there! We are just too excited about this cruise, aren't we?"  
  
Sark grinned, his bright white teeth exposed. "Oh, absolutely. We've been literally counting down the days."  
  
The woman, with tightly curled gray-white hair, smiled tightly back at them. "You're awfully young to be in marital therapy. Why, we didn't start goin' 'til we was in our fourties, eh Herb?" Shirley Henderson, as indicated from her name-tag, was detectably from somewhere in the South United States.  
  
"Oh, you're American. I am too, but Julian here is English! Fabulous. Anyway, yes, we're newlyweds--,"  
  
"Very new," Sark interrupted his wife.  
  
"Yes. And we just wanted to start working on our marriage from the get-go. You know, keep it fresh and open from the start, right, honey?" Anna set her brown eyes on Sark, looking lovingly from Shirley and Herb's view.  
  
"That's right, love." Sark wound his arm around her waist and Anna tried not to look surprised.  
  
Shirley continued to smile at them, her crooked, yellowy teeth visible. "Aww...that's sweet. I can tell that you two are gonna last, and I've seen lotsa couples, don't 'ya know? Herb knows," she elbowed her husband in the gut, "I got the sight."  
  
Anna's smile faltered a bit. "Oh, well I hope you're right."  
  
Sark coughed. "Excuse me." Anna shot him an icy look before turning her gaze back to Herb and Shirley.  
  
Shirley looked down at her clipboard. "Oh, hon, I need your names."  
  
"Julian and Anna Parker," Sark answered, leaning across the table to help her find them. "Ah, right there", he pointed.  
  
"What a gentleman!" Shirley gushed, winking at Anna.  
  
Anna smiled, her bottom teeth digging into her lip."Oh yes, a real...piece of work,"  
  
"Hmm...you're in room 247. Here's your key and schedule!" Shirley said perkily, her husband grumbling incomprehensibly at her side.  
  
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Hender—,"  
  
Shirley flapped her hands around. "Oh no, no, dear! Call me Shirley. Do ya want Herb here to help you with your luggage?"  
  
"No, no. That's fine. Besides...we packed light," Sark jumped in, flashing a charming smile.  
  
"You gotta watch out for this one, Ms. Anna. All these ladies here'll be gawking after you. He's a real charmer," Shirley added, as Anna and Sark started up the ramp.  
  
Anna turned her head and replied brightly, "No fear. I'll beat them off with a stick." With that, she smiled and turned back to continue up the ramp.  
  
"Fiery, that one, eh, Herb?" Shirley murmured to her husband who just grunted. "I'm betting they got one volatile relationship!"  
  
If she only knew.  
  
----  
  
Sark tossed something towards Anna and she caught it flawlessly. "What's this?"  
  
"I suppose you could call it 'gear'," he said over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom. Their room was a fair size and beautifully furnished. They had taken a moment to make it their own by tossing heir luggage on the bed, only cracking open the suitcase with their gear. Sark was mildly apprehensive about living in such close quarters with Anna for an extended period of time. Things could get...complicated...  
  
It was a tiny, velvety gray box. Anna ran her hands over the smooth surface, finally flipping the top open; a beautiful, shining white-gold ring, simple yet extraordinary, lay entombed. "It's amazing," she whispered to herself, glancing around automatically, wondering if this was really for her.  
  
"Well, what do you think, then?" He was leaning against the bathroom door, a crooked smile on his face.  
  
Anna fingered the small ring, feeling the hard, sharp diamond graze her touch. "I—ugh, yeah. Wow. Er,...I don't quite understand. What's it for?"  
  
"For my wife," he replied quietly, moving closer to her.  
  
Anna swallowed, suddenly aware of how small the room was. "Uhhh...," was all she managed to choke out.  
  
"For Anna Parker, from Julian Parker," Sark explained.  
  
Anna sighed in relief. "Right, yeah. I suppose we should have wedding rings—you know, for our cover here. 'Course we could've always just said we misplaced them or something." It was for his wife. His pretend wife, not the real Anna Parker.  
  
"Read the brochure. 'All couples must have wedding rings. They are a symbol of love and union. Any type of ring is acceptable so long as it be worn at most times'," he recited knowingly.  
  
Anna threw her head up, her forehead creased. "That's stupid...but I guess, we don't make the rules, Ward and June out there do."  
  
"Ward and June?" Sark asked curiously, his eyes lifted.  
  
She shifted her weight to one side, hands on her hips. "Are you joking me? Hello! Ward and June Cleaver—Leave It to Beaver?" She snuck at a glace at his blank face. "Nothing? Oh come on, they're classic! Ack, you're hopeless!"  
  
"Alright, alright. Just because I'm unfamiliar with your American sitcoms, 'classics' apparently...well, try it on, then!" Sark answered, gesturing towards the box enclosed in Anna's hand.  
  
She chewed on her lower lip, looked up at him with those warm brown eyes, and then back down at the box, finally flicking it open again. It really was an exquisite piece of jewelry. Anna put it delicately on the ring- finger on her left hand. Only, it didn't quite fit her finger; it was only half-way on. "It's...ouch, too small!"  
  
Sark came infront of her, looking closely at her hand. "So push it a little, it should fit!"  
  
"Yeah, thanks tips. How helppppful...," she replied, her voice strained with effort. "Agh, oww. I can't move it! I can't get it off!"  
  
"I'm sure it doesn't hurt that bad!"  
  
"You try cramming a ring way too small onto your finger!" Anna retorted angrily, looking at her sore, red ring-finger.  
  
"It should fit." Sark bent his head towards hers, examining the problem. "I think you're just overreacting."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Just let me see it!" He took her hand, and slowly twisted the ring round and round.  
  
"That hurts! Well, isn't this romantic!"  
  
He gave her a look that she knew meant silence. "This was my mother's ring. She gave it to me a while ago and I don't know...it goes where I go. Apparently, it's an antique that my father gave to her...before things got...difficult. My mother told me the myth behind it—the person who wears it, well, they're supposed to be protected. This ring will protect whomever bears it."  
  
"How very Lord of the Rings," Anna joked, though her comment was ill-timed.  
  
"Ah, there we go!" The ring was now sliding off her finger easily.  
  
Anna clutched her sore finger, shaking off the pain. "Thanks. Good God. That is some ring."  
  
Sark didn't look up, but was staring intently at the ring. "Way to ruin a moment, Parker! Come here, let's try it again."  
  
"Oh no freakin' way. It hates me!" Anna backed away cautiously.  
  
Sark exhaled, grabbing her hand. Expertly he guided the ring onto her finger, gently and smoothly. He held it there for a moment, his eyes resting on hers intensely. "There."  
  
"There," she repeated tenderly, completely forgetting what smart comment she'd intended on making. All she could feel was the weight of the ring on the finger and his skin touching hers. For an instant, she almost forgot who was standing before her and realized that this feeling of utter happiness must be what it is to be loved and proposed to.  
  
Sark jerked his hand away suddenly. For an instant, he'd known what it would be like to love someone enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them. That perfect someone who makes you a better person and who you arise in the morning for. What a frightening thought.  
  
Anna awkwardly changed the topic. "Maybe we should get to work. Hook up to the computer system and find out who Dresden is." She couldn't resist sneaking a glance at the sparkle on her finger. Whew, she breathed inwardly.  
  
Sark sat down on the bed, turning the t.v. with the remote. "Good idea." He was still distracted with the rush of emotions from their 'moment'.  
  
"I'm just...gonna...run to the washroom." Anna hurried towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut.  
  
"You do that!" Sark said absently, flopping his back down on the bed.  
  
Anna leaned against the bathroom door, trying to slow her heartbeat.  
  
Sark laid on the now-rumpled comforter, attempting to forget.  
  
It was going to be a long ride. 


End file.
